URTIS 


STORY  AND  SONG 


1  know  not  how  the  marvel  grew, 
That  nature  made  one  model  do; 
Graving  the  features  bold  or  fine 
Alike  in  every  shade  and  line. 


STORY  AND  SONG 


BY 

LOUIS  F.  CURTIS 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

FLORINE    HYER 


If  please  ye,  listen  to  my  lore 

SPENSER 


CHICAGO 

R.  R.  DONNELLEY  &  SONS  CO. 
1905 


\ 

COPYRIGHT,  1905, 

BY 
LOUIS  F.  CURTIS 


« 

0 


DEDICATION 

TO  WELL  BELOVED  WIFE  WHO  FONDLY  GAVE 

AS  WARM  A  HEART  AS  MAN  COULD  EVER  CRAVE, 

AND  TO  MY  MOTHER  WHOSE  SINCEREST  LOVE 

HATH  PROVED  THE    EARNEST  OF  A  HEAVEN  ABOVE, 

I   DEDICATE  THIS  LITTLE  BOOK  OF  SONG. 

PERCHANCE  IT  MAY  A  HAPPY  HOUR  PROLONG 

OR  SOOTHE   A  SORROW  WHEN  THE  DAY   IS  DONE, 

OR  MAY  ITS  RYTHM  AND  THE  RISEN  SUN 

FOND  RECOLLECTION  STRIKE,  A  SILVER  BELL, 

TO  ECHO  SWEET  AND  TELL  I  LOVED  YE  PASSING  WELL. 


835634 


FOREWORD 

The  greater  part  of  this  volume  was  presented  in 
manuscript  form  before  the  Progress  Literary  Circle  of 
Los  Angeles,  California.  The  kind  reception  accorded 
the  verse  by  the  members  of  the  Progress  Circle  encour 
aged  the  Author  to  offer  the  work  to  a  larger  audience. 

L.  F.  C. 

Los  Angeles, 

September  3,  1905 


CONTENTS 

GURTH 13 

KING  EDGAR 37 

THE  CENTURY  .          .          .          .          .  .  75 

CALIFORNIA'S  GREETING  AT  THE  WORLD'S  FAIR  .        81 

To  MY  MOTHER — HER  77™  BIRTHDAY  .  .        87 
THE  BEHYMER  LIBRARY       .....        90 

KOKINA    .          .          .          .          .          .  .  .91 

RECENT  WANDERINGS  OF  ULYSSES  .  •  .97 

A  MOTHER'S    LOVE    .          .          .          .  .  in 

JENNIE      .          .  .  .  .  .  .  .115 

LONGING  .          .          .          .          .          .  .  .117 

FATE         .          .          .          .          .          .  .  .119 

THE  OAKS        .          .          .          .          .  .  .      1 20 

THE  FAVORED  ONES  .          .          .  .  .122 

LET  ME  DWELL        .          .          .          .  .  .124 

RETROSPECTION  .          .          .          .  .  .126 

THE   WATCHWORD     .          .          .          .  .  .128 

THE  UNFINISHED    STATUE  .          .  .  .130 

A  CHRISTMAS  PRAYER          .          .          .  .  133 

THE  THREE  BELLS     .          .          .          .  .  135 

SANTA  CLARA  VALLEY          .          .          .  .  137 

Two  FLOWERS  .          .          .          .  .  .140 

To  MILDRED    .          .          .          .          .  .  .143 

FUTURITY  .          .          .  .          .  .  .145 

LEAVE  THEM  ALONE  .          .  .  ,  .  .146 

LADDIE  .          .          .          .          .  .  .148 

ARMENIA  .          .          .          .  .  .  .150 

CROWN  OF  THE  VALLEY      .          .          .  .  .152 


A  DREAM           .          .          .          .          .  .  .154 

LA  FIESTA  DE  LA   FLORES              .           .  .  .156 

AWAKEN,  O   QUEEN   .           .          .          .  .  .158 

WELCOME,  GRACIOUS  QUEEN  OF   MIRTH  .  .160 

TEACH  ME,  PAINTER            .           .          .  .  .163 

LITTLE  JIM        .          .          .          .          .  .  .165 

JUNE .168 

THE  SAILOR'S  RETURN         .          .          .  .  .169 

A  MAID  WITH  A  HEART        .           .          .  .  .171 

JIM  ROOT          .          .           .           .           .  .  .173 

THE  MOON       .          .          .          .          .  .  .176 

MARJORIE           .          .          .          .          .  .  .179 

A  PRECIOUS  FLOWER              .           .           .  .  .180 

THAT  OTHER  ROOM             .           .           .  .  .182 

PEACE,   BE  STILL        .          .          .          .  .  .183 

ONE .184 

RASTER    .           .          .           .           .          .  .  .185 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

NATURE  MADE  ONE  MODEL  Do          .          .    Frontispiece 
I  HEARD   MY  BROTHER'S  NAME  ...        20 

MY  HARP  LONG  SILENT     .          .          .          .          -35 
SAD  THE  SOVEREIGN  .          .          .          .          -39 

ON  THRESHOLD  SHE  PAUSED         ....        48 
FAIR  SHADOWS  OF  NIGHT    .          .          .          .          .58 


GURTH 

I 

A  Norseman  I,  although  my  face 

Betrays  the  blood  of  the  Latin  race, 

The  reason  is  not  far  to  trace ; 

A  sea-king  home  from  southron  raid 

In  fetters  brought  a  Gallic  maid 

But  ere  the  summer-time  was  done 

The  conqu'ror's  heart  was  lost  and  won, 

He  bowed  himself  to  woman's  wiles  — 

Became  a  vassal  of  her  smiles, 

Then  in  an  ancient  runic  hall 

The  Norse  was  wedded  to  the  Gaul. 

This  the  sire  and  the  witching  dame 

From  whom  our  very  life-blood  came. 

II. 

Twin  brothers  were  we,  Gurth  and  I, 
Born  where  the  iceberg  cleaves  the  sky, 
Where  Odin's  offspring  Baldur  bright 
Is  hidden  by  eternal  night ; 
Baldur  fair  as  the  sunset  glow 
Whom  Hoder  slew  with  the  mistletoe. 
Our  sire  a  rover,  Ocean  grim 
Ever  he  vowed  was  calling  him 

13 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Calling,  chanting  :     "  Come  thou  to  me, 
Thou  art  a  child  of  the  billows  free." 

Ill 

Oh,  the  sea,  the  sea ;  thou  treacherous  sea  ' 
Luring  the  children  of  men  unto  thee, 
Charming  them  out  with  your  sirenous  song, 
The  brave  and  the  fair,  the  young  and  the  strong, 
Enticing  them  on  with  maiden-sweet  breath 
Till  they  lie  enbosomed  asleep  in  death. 

IV 

And  so  our  sire  southward  went ; 
He  ravaged  Gaul  and  pillaged  Kent, 
Then  homeward  sails,  his  vessel  toils 
Laden  deep  with  the  richest  spoils  — 
Laden  deep  —  and  the  spoils  are  rare  — 
One  is  a  maid  surpassing  fair, 
Her  flaxen  tress  and  eyes  like  Danes' 
Proclaim  the  Saxon  in  her  veins. 
White  as  a  lilly,  her  drooping  head 
Sign  of  a  heart  that  inward  bled, 
Drooped  still  lower  until  she  died 
For  love  of  man  on  the  Kentish  side. 
I  was  a  child  yet  the  maiden's  grace 
Carved  an  ever-remembered  face, 
Full  of  beauty  ;   her  spirit  fair 
So  oft  absorbed  in  silent  prayer. 
Her  fate  taught  me  as  years  increase 
A  hate  of  war,  a  love  of  peace. 

14 


GURTH 


V 

I  was  a  youth  of  eight  and  ten 
When  our  roving  sire  sailed  again, 
Steered  away  to  the  sunny  south 
To  feed  the  famine-stricken  mouth ; 
And  with  the  father  journeyed  Gurth 
To  match  himself  with  men  of  worth  ; 
A  stripling,  lithe  and  strong  and  tall, 
Eager  to  answer  the  battle's  call. 
But  O,  his  mother's  heart  was  rent 
With  anguish  like  when  death  is  sent. 
With  streaming  eyes,  at  love's  behest, 
She  bound  him  closely  to  her  breast, 
As  if  she  knew  by  mystic  ken 
She  ne'er  would  hold  him  there  again. 
And  thus  it  proved;  ten  years  have  sped, 
Our  mother  sleeps  amid  the  dead  ! 
She  quenched  with  tears  the  living  flame 
For  sire  and  son  who  never  came  — 
For  sire  and  son,  but  more  for  Gurth, 
Who  seemed  the  chosen  flower  of  earth. 

VI 

My  mother,  as  I  upward  grew, 
Instilled  the  mother  tongue  she  knew, 
Till  Gallic  speech  and  songs  they  sung 
Were  wedded  to  my  Norway  tongue. 
I  owned  my  brother's  form  and  face, 
His  voice,  his  walk,  yet  lacked  his  grace  ; 


STORY   AND    SONG 


So  closely  molded  were  we  twain, 

That  kindred  searched  and  searched  in  vain 

For  blemish,  mole,  or  shade  of  hair 

To  know  who  stood  before  them  there. 

And  though  they  sought  with  frequent  mirth, 

They  oft  declared  that  I  was  Gurth, 

Or  Gurth  was  I.      One  uncle  swore 

We  traded  garments  that  we  wore ; 

Another  vowed  the  god  of  storms 

Had  granted  power  to  change  our  forms. 

I  know  not  how  the  marvel  grew, 

That  nature  made  one  model  do, 

Graving  the  features  bold  or  fine 

Alike  in  every  shade  and  line. 

VII 

But  outer  garments  only  hide 

The  unseen  souls  who  there  abide. 

The  mask  of  flesh  is  but  a  sphinx 

Screening  the  thing  that  toils  and  thinks. 

The  mind  itself  still  puzzles  mind  — 

Revealing  little  hid  behind 

The  wall  of  flesh ;  we  stand  and  gaze 

Upon  the  threshold  of  this  maze 

But  may  not  enter.     Search  how  we  will 

This  baffles  all  our  lore  and  skill. 

VIII 

We  brothers  of  the  selfsame  race, 
So  near  alike  in  form  and  face, 
16 


GURTH 


Within  were  of  a  different  mold. 

My  brother  Gurth  was  strong  and  bold, 

While  I,  perchance  as  strong  as  he, 

Was  wedded  unto  minstrelsy. 

He  followed  close  the  god  of  war  — 

Treading  upon  the  heels  of  Thor  — 

While  I  did  butchery  abhor. 

My  senses  sickened  at  the  sight 

Of  blood.     I  often  prayed  to  Night 

To  make  an  end  of  awful  slaughters 

Of  stalwart  men,  of  dames  and  daughters. 

But  unto  Gurth,  the  battle  strife 

Even  in  youth  was  the  breath  of  life. 


IX 


Long  years  have  fled — no  message  came 

From  those  who  bore  our  family  name. 

No  rumor  ran  of  sire  or  son ; 

I  knew  not  if  their  lives  were  done  — 

I  knew  not  if  they  captives  lay  — 

Within  a  dungeon  hid  from  day. 

But  since  my  saddened  mother  slept 

I  deemed  my  duty  tardy  kept 

To  speed  wherever  billows  led 

To  seek  my  kinsmen  quick  or  dead. 

In  mighty  erlking's  lofty  boat 

My  humble  harp  was  soon  afloat ; 

And  I  and  ten  score  men  abide 

Within  the  vessel's  roomy  side. 

17 


STORY    AND    SONG 


Ten  sister  ships  have  trimmed  their  sales 

To  catch  with  ours  the  fav'ring  gales. 

A  hundred  banners  beat  the  air  — 

A  mighty  host  is  chanting  prayer  — 

A  prayer  to  Odin  and  to  Thor 

For  brave  success  and  spoil  of  war. 

A  thousand  vikings  crowd  aboard 

Then  outward,  downward  through  the  fiord. 

One  lingering  look  across  the  lee 

And  erlking  steered  for  the  open  sea. 


Three  months  have  passed.     I  may  not  stay 
To  tell  the  struggles  night  and  day, 
Of  fearful  battles  lost  and  won, 
Of  cities  sacked  at  set  of  sun  ; 
From  Friesland  coast  to  Afric's  bay 
Our  lurid  torches  lit  the  way. 
Full  many  vessels  homeward  creep 
With  harvests  only  swords  can  reap. 
Then  swift  return  with  added  hosts 
To  join  us  on  Iberian  coasts. 
Through  all  these  days  I  ne'er  forgot 
My  sire  and  Gurth  but  found  them  not : 
With  Gallic  speech  and  harp  and  song 
I  journeyed  weary  miles  along, 
And  little  needed  deep  disguise  — 
I  seemed  a  Gaul  to  Gallic  eyes. 
Through  star-lit  nights  I  trudged  afar 
To  view  some  captive  man  of  war. 
18 


GURTH 


Then  at  the  dawn  would  haste  away 
To  where  our  ships  at  anchor  lay ; 
Then  sailing,  sailing,  still  to  south, 
We  ride  at  last  near  Tiber's  mouth. 

XI 

That  morning  ere  the  noon  of  day 
I  sped  across  the  level  bay, 
And  in  a  friendly  sheltered  cave 
Secured  my  bark  against  the  wave. 
Then  with  my  harp  upon  mine  arm 
I  ventured  forth  with  no  alarm; 
For  music  with  its  power  to  charm 
Had  ever  kept  me  safe  from  harm. 
I  wandered  shoreward  till  the  wave 
Was  guarded  by  a  castle  brave, 
Then  turning  landward  hoped  to  meet 
A  peasant  maiden  I  might  greet. 
As  I  have  trudged  from  door  to  door 
I've  learned  to  trust  the  lowly  poor, 
And  maiden  tears  were  won't  to  flow 
As  I  retold  my  mother's  woe, 
How  her  fond  heart  life's  burden  bore 
For  spouse  and  son  who  came  no  more. 

XII 

By  chance,  or  is  there  ever  chance, 
Anear  the  way  of  my  advance, 
Open  I  saw  a  postern  gate 
Luring  me  onward  to  my  fate. 


STORY    AND    SONG 


Within  a  spacious  garden,  fair 

As  are  Vahalla's  gardens  rare, 

Mine  eyes  beheld  a  temple  stand  — 

Such  fanes  as  dot  the  Gallic  land 

With  cross  atop,  the  faithful  sign 

Of  Him  the  Latins  deem  divine. 

And  from  the  door  ajar  I  heard 

A  prayer  but  understood  no  word. 

The  language  strange,  but  word  and  tone 

Were  such  the  good  alone  may  own, 

With  accents  pure,  the  voice  of  love 

Must  surely  win  its  way  above. 

I  stood  entranced  and  thought  me  hid 

Behind  a  flowering  pyramid, 

Hoping  to  view  the  one  whose  voice 

Had  bade  my  inmost  heart  rejoice. 

XIII 

Anear  she  came  a  princely  air 
Enrobed  a  woman  passing  fair  ; 
The  glow  of  youth  was  on  her  cheeks, 
Where  e  re  mine  eye  perfection  seeks 
Of  rounded  form,  of  orb  and  brow 
It  seemed  to  shine  before  me  now ; 
And  costly  garb  and  noble  mein 
Proclaimed  her  little  less  than  queen. 
I  would  have  fled  but  her  dark  eye 
Transfixed  me  as  I  turned  to  fly, 
And  ere  I  could  a  footstep  claim 
Amazed  I  heard  my  brother's  name. 
20 


And  ere  I  could  a  footstep  claim, 
Amazed,  I  heard  my  brother's  name. 


GURTH 


"Ah,  Gurth,"  she  said,  while  swift  surprise 
Was  written  large  within  mine  eyes, 
But  there  enchained  I  had  no  choice 
Save  hear  the  music  of  her  voice. 
"  Ah,  Gurth,  thou  art  returned  so  soon  ? 
My  prayer  hath  surely  wrought  this  boon  ; 
What  say  the  leader  of  the  host, 
Whose  sails  o'er  shadow  half  the  coast  ? 
Did  he  accept  the  profered  gold 
To  leave  unscathed  my  castle  bold  ? 
Or  must  the  Christ  and  men  of  war 
Fight  pagans  and  the  demon  Thor  ? 
How  did  the  robbers  and  their  king  — 
Whose  praises  I  have  heard  thee  sing  — 
Receive  thee  Gurth  ?     Thou  dost  not  smile 
I  fear  the  Norway  greed  and  guile 
Were  not  o'ercome  —  that  we  must  fight 
For  life  and  home,  for  God  and  right. 
Speak  Gurth,  why  art  thou  silent  now, 
What  thoughts  are  lurking  in  thy  brow  ?" 

XIV 

O,  ye  with  wisdom  calm  and  clear 
Solve  me  the  problem  written  here. 
Behold  the  maid  with  flashing  eye, 
How  could  I  all  her  power  defy  ? 
She  seemed  an  eagle  and  a  dove, 
A  dual  nature  born  to  love 
Yet  vengeance  take  if  one  defied 
Her  rightful  rule,  her  power  and  pride. 
21 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Soft  her  bosom  yet  I  could  feel 

Her  heart  might  grow  as  hard  as  steel. 

I  saw  anear  me  men  at  arms 

To  guard  the  lady's  ample  charms  ; 

Beheld  the  castle's  frowning  wall, 

The  dungeon  should  the  mistress  call. 

Yet  could  I  traitor  prove  to  Gurth, 

My  brother,  doubly  so,  by  birth  ? 

Here  was  his  home,  his  praise  she  sung, 

And  he  had  taught  her  Norway's  tongue. 

Now  he  had  gone  to  buy  release 

With  gold,  to  bribe  the  erlking's  peace ; 

I  seemed  to  stand  in  deep  disgrace 

Wearing  my  brother's  copied  face. 

She  thought  me  Gurth  :  what  could  I  say 

Except  some  words  that  meant  delay, 

Hoping  meantime  on  Gurth's  return 

That  she  would  all  the  secret  learn. 

XV 

u  I  pray  your  ladyship  will  wait 
An  hour  or  more  ere  I  relate 
My  story,  all  I  saw  and  heard 
You  then  shall  know,  each  look  and  word. 
But  now  I  seem  to  lack  the  power 
Be  gen'rous,  grant  me  but  an  hour." 
"  Ah,  Gurth,"  she  spake  in  sweet  reply, 
"  Take  time  you  wish,  nor  tell  me  why 
Thou  hast  my  castle,  life  and  land 
Within  the  keeping  of  thy  hand. 
22 


GURTH 


Ten  years  ago,  a  stripling  tall, 
Thou  cam'st  a  prisoner  to  the  hall. 
Thy  pirate  life  was  forfeit  then  — 
When  I  a  little  maid  of  ten 
On  bended  knees  with  pleading  cries, 
Besought  my  sire  for  this  prize. 
He  gave  your  life  to  me  ;  since  then 
Thou  knowest  all  that  we  have  been : 
How  when  my  dame  and  father  died 
I  raised  thee  gov'nor  near  my  side. 
My  men  at  arms  thy  warriors  are, 
And  you  my  pride  and  power  share. 
Shall  I  who  dowered  thee  with  power 
Refuse  to  grant  a  single  hour  ! 
Take  hours  and  days,  no  soul  shall  seek 
A  word  until  you  will  to  speak. 
Enter  and  doff  the  Norse  disguise 
At  sight  of  it  my  father  dies 
Again  before  my  maiden  eyes ; 
And  in  my  mem'ry  there  revives 
The  horror,  murder,  lust,  and  war 
Of  those  who  follow  cruel  Thor. 
Fierce  are  tigers  rending  their  prey 
Norsemen  are  fiercer  far  than  they  ! " 

XVI 

With  that  we  entered  side  by  side 
A  room  to  fit  a  prince's  pride, 
But  ere  mine  eye  had  glanced  it  o'er 
My  fair  conductress  quit  the  door. 

23 


STORY   AND   SONG 


I  stood  alone  midst  wealth  and  worth  — 

Mementoes  rich  of  absent  Gurth  — 

Puzzled  I  seek  in  vain  to  shape 

A  course  by  which  I  may  escape; 

Yet  strangely  in  my  hour  of  need 

I  hoped  that  I  might  not  succeed. 

I  safety  sought  yet  would  not  flee 

Were  every  doorway  ope  to  me. 

That  woman's  voice,  for  good  or  ill, 

Had  shorn  my  strength  and  bound  my  will. 

XVII 

An  hour  had  passed  it  may  be  twain, 
Yet  all  my  plannings  were  in  vain. 
Then  heard  the  lady's  voice  once  more 
Entreating  me  to  view  the  shore. 
"  Look,  Gurth  !  behold  the  robber  fleet 
Is  lifting  high  each  spar  and  sheet. 
With  anchors  hoist  this  landward  breeze 
Will  sweep  them  out  upon  the  seas. 
I  thank  thee  Gurth,  thou  didst  prevail 
Behold  the  Norsemen  setting  sail  !  " 
'Twas  sadly  true,  O,  how  I  yearned 
To  know  if  Gurth  had  yet  returned. 
Far  as  mine  eye  could  outward  reach 
I  swiftly  scanned  the  lacey  beach; 
No  boat  was  seen,  none  near  the  coast 
Returning  from  the  viking  host. 
I  wished  to  flee  where  cavern  dark 
Gave  refuge  to  my  tiny  bark, 
24 


GURTH 


Then  seaward  row  with  steady  hand 

Bring  back  my  kinsman  to  the  land. 

But  distance  great  and  Norse  advance 

Bereft  me  of  mine  only  chance. 

Then  as  their  sails  grew  big  with  breeze 

I  sank  before  her  on  my  knees; 

And  deeming  life  but  little  worth 

Confessed  that  I  was  never  Gurth. 

"  Who  art  thou,  then  ?"     A  mocking  smile 

O'erlit  her  features  in  denial, 

Swift  followed  scorn  and  even  now 

Her  flashing  eye  and  frowning  brow 

Gave  warning  on  the  instant  there 

She  might  be  fierce  as  well  as  fair  ; 

And  written  in  her  Latin  face 

The  craft  and  cunning  of  her  race 

Bred  quick  suspicion ;  saw  the  sign 

Of  traitrous  plot  in  words  of  mine ; 

And  with  a  meaning  glance  she  felt 

A  jeweled  dagger  at  her  belt. 

u  Since  Gurth  denies  himself  to  me, 

Who  art  thou,  then  ?"  demanded  she. 

I  then  in  accents  scarcely  bold 

My  living  story  briefly  told. 

u  His  brother  I.     Let  me  relate 

I  hither  came  to  learn  his  fate. 

Ten  long  and  weary  years  have  passed 

Since  I  beheld  my  kindred  last ; 

And  when  my  weeping  mother  died 

I  journeyed  on  the  moving  tide, 

25 


STORY    AND   SONG 


Searching  from  Norway's  icy  shore 

For  sire  and  son  who  came  no  more. 

My  harp  now  in  thy  garden  fair, 

A  sweet  companion  in  despair, 

Here  venturing  all  I  haply  came 

And  heard  you  breathe  my  brother's  name. 

Twin  brothers  we,  as  thou  mayst  trace 

Resemblance  close  in  form  and  face. 

I  sealed  my  lips  till  thou  shouldst  learn 

The  truth  on  noble  Gurth's  return, 

But  since  he  sails  I  hope  to  claim 

Thy  mercy  in  my  kinsman's  name." 

I  sought  her  eyes,  a  softened  air 

Foretold  that  I  had  gained  my  prayer. 

XVIII 

"  Strange  is  thy  story,  stranger  still 
I  must  believe  against  my  will. 
Fain  would  I  find  some  flaw  to  keep 
Thee  hidden  in  my  dungeon  deep ; 
But  every  word  and  sign  and  tone 
Bespeak  the  truth  and  truth  alone. 
I  knew  that  near  the  ocean's  rim 
Gurth  had  a  brother  like  to  him 
As  are  two  peas  within  a  pod, 
But  never  dreamed  Italian  sod 
Would  find  him  here.      Thy  sire's  soul 
Has  passed  beyond  the  earth's  control. 
Thy  hapless  father's  race  is  run, 
He  perished  when  I  saved  the  son." 
26 


GURTH 


XIX 

The  day  swift  faded  into  night, 
The  Night  hung  out  her  lamps  of  light. 
I  watched  them  rise  and  pale,  then  came 
The  sun  to  set  the  world  aflame, 
Kindling  with  fire  each  spire  of  earth, 
And  still  no  word  from  absent  Gurth. 
Two  lonely  months  were  thus  devoured, 
While  high  the  faithful  watchers  towered 
Searching  afar  the  wrinkled  plane 
For  Norway's  fleet  but  all  in  vain. 
Each  sail  beheld,  each  spar  and  rope 
Proved  sad  delusion  to  our  hope. 

XX 

Meanwhile  the  mistress  of  the  tower 
Grew  wayward  —  changing  hour  by  hour  — 
Tears  followed  smiles  and  anger  tears, 
Triumphant  joy  succeeded  fears  ; 
Her  heart  a  harp  whose  strings  were  swept 
By  strange  emotions  memory  kept. 
I  wondered  did  another  find 
Such  April  weather  of  the  mind. 
She  led  me  once  with  gentle  hand 
To  where  arose  a  flower  stand 
Enriched  with  many  blossoms  rare. 
And  bade  me  choose  the  farest  there 
To  grace  her  wealth  of  hazel  hair. 
27 


STORY    AND    SONG 


I  plucked  a  rose  which  seemed  to  speak 

Of  kinship  to  her  red'ning  cheek. 

She  bowed  her  shapely  head  with  grace 

For  me  to  twine  the  bloom  in  place, 

But  senseless  I,  the  flower  gave 

And  straight  was  banished  like  a  slave. 

Sometimes  my  harp  at  her  behest 

Would  wake  a  longing  in  her  breast, 

As  I  retold  in  Gallic  song 

Of  faithless  knight  and  maiden's  wrong, 

She  strangely  watched  with  eyes  alight 

As  though  I  were  the  wicked  knight. 

•XXI 

I  seemed  a  prisoner  yet  she  gave 

Me  all  the  freedom  I  could  crave. 

Had  she  endowed  with  barge  and  boat 

The  proudest  that  on  waters  float 

And  said  :  "  Thou  hast  supreme  command." 

I  could  not  then  have  quit  the  land. 

The  strongest  fetters  captives  feel 

Are  never  wrought  of  hammered  steel ; 

An  unseen  thread  may  stronger  keep 

Than  stoney  dungeon  dark  deep. 

XXII 

When  days  had  melted  into  weeks, 
The  roses  faded  from  her  cheeks  : 
Yet  Gurth  came  not.     My  heart  grew  ill 
To  see  my  lady  sad  and  still 
28 


GURTH 


Then  feverish  grow  when  I  came  near 

But  why  I  knew  not  —  'twas  not  fear 

That  moved  her  so.     At  last  one  eve 

The  watchers  on  the  tower  receive 

A  sad  reward ;  beheld  a  barge 

With  some  high  chieftain  in  its  charge, 

Approaching  slowly  on  the  tide 

Drop  anchor  near  the  castle's  side. 

The  sails  were  furled,  two  score  of  rowers 

Uplifted  high  their  polished  oars, 

And  then  upon  the  vesper  air 

Arose  a  solemn  chanted  prayer 

In  Norway's  tongue.     My  heart  in  fear 

Beheld  the  sad  procession  near  ; 

Eight  stalwart  warriors  strong  and  tall 

Marched  onward  with  a  raven  pall  — 

Black  as  the  darkest  Norway  night 

Hiding  the  very  sun  from  sight. 

The  wild,  weird  cronach  soon  was  o'er  — 

The  column  halted  at  the  door 

As  if  the  dead  beneath  the  pall 

Would  knock  for  entrance  to  the  hall. 

The  mistress  with  a  tearful  eye  — 

Betwixt  a  shudder  and  a  sigh  — 

Gave  me  her  hand,  a  sign  to  say, 

That  I  should  lead  the  solemn  way. 

I  swung  the  carven  portal  wide  — 

Then  silent  as  if  speech  had  died 

Without  a  word,  a  sign  or  song 

The  black  procession  moved  along  : 

29 


STORY    AND    SONG 


'Neath  armor  in  the  stately  hall 

They  staid  their  steps  :  they  set  the  pall. 

XXIII 

We  knew  'twas  he,  yet  silence  fell, 
Nor  could  we  break  the  tragic  spell 
Which  struck  us  dumb.     At  length  a  chief, 
Whom  I  had  known,  spake  some  relief: 
u  My  tongue  reluctant  moves,"  he  said, 
"  To  tell  the  story  of  the  dead  — 
A  nobler,  greater  voice  he  needs 
To  breathe  the  glory  of  his  deeds. 
When  viking  Gurth  approached  with  gold 
To  purchase  peace  the  tale  he  told 
Was  disbelieved  ;  the  erlking's  wrath 
Arose  a  tempest  round  his  path 
And  named  him  traitor  to  the  Norse, 
Proclaimed  with  all  his  mighty  force 
The  castle  should  be  sacked.     The  king 
Mistook  the  brothers,  bade  them  bring 
Ignoble  fetters.      And  then  Gurth 
Appealing  unto  heaven  and  earth 
Hurled  back  the  traitorous  word  and  lie. 
We  deemed  that  he  was  doomed  to  die. 
"  O  fair  musician,"  spake  the  king, 
"  We  know  that  thou  canst  harp  and  sing 
Now  we  will  judge  if  thou  canst  wield 
With  equal  skill  the  sword  and  shield." 
With  that  he  called  upon  his  aides 
For  targes  and  a  pair  of  blades. 

3° 


GURTH 


Then  urged  a  kinsman  of  the  king : 
"  It  is  unmeet  you  do  this  thing 
A  slight  mischance,  a  fatal  thrust 
May  turn  an  earlking  into  dust 
And  wreck  our  cause,  as  kinsman  true 
I  beg  to  champion  cause  and  you. 
There  lies  my  glove  if  he  denies 
That  he  is  traitor,  then  he  dies." 
Scarce  had  the  gauntlet  downward  sank 
Ere  Gurth  had  snatched  it  from  the  plank, 
And  with  a  greater  strength  than  grace 
Hurled  glove  and  challenge  in  his  face. 
Then  Northern  blood  and  Norway  ire 
Flamed  upward  like  a  living  fire. 
As  lightning  leaps  upon  his  track 
When  Thor  is  raging  fierce  and  black 
So  from  the  scabbards  leaped  the  swords 
Of  these  unconquered  Norway  lords. 
Unrivaled  skill  and  strength  contend 
Till  none  may  prophesy  the  end; 
Each  strove  with  seasoned  hand  to  start 
The  life  blood  from  a  foeman's  heart. 
Thus  raged  the  duel  three  hours  long 
Between  the  warriors  skilled  and  strong 
Till  mighty  Gurth  with  giant's  leap 
Rushed  on  and  with  a  twisted  sweep 
Hurled  high  his  foeman's  blade  away 
And  heard  it  drop  within  the  bay. 
c<  Thy  life  is  forfeit !  "  uttered  Gurth, 
"But  since  thou  provedst  a  man  of  worth 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Thy  Norseman's  courage,  strength  and  skill, 

I'll  never  let  my  weapon  kill." 

Then  spake  the  king :  "  Brave  Gurth  thine  arm 

Hath  guarded  thee  from  mortal  harm. 

The  strongest  swordsman  of  my  fleet 

Thou  didst  with  lordly  courage  meet. 

We  will  no  longer  war  with  thee  — 

We  can  no  longer  doubtful  be  — 

Wilt  thou  abide  by  my  right  side 

To  be  my  champion  and  my  guide? 

Next  to  the  king  with  skill  and  grace 

We  pray  thee  take  thy  rightful  place. 

Across  the  sea  'gainst  Moslem  foe 

We  wait  thy  choice  to  bid  us  go. 

A  single  month  of  war  or  less 

Will  bring  thee  home  thy  home  to  bless." 

Gurth  wavered,  and  that  moment  cost 

His  life  and  all  the  world  he  lost! 

He  deemed  our  vessels  anchored  there 

A  menace  to  this  lady  fair. 

Until  the  fleet  had  quit  the  shore 

He  dare  not  call  the  danger  o'er. 

Besides  within  his  bosom  lay 

A  love  of  battle's  fierce  array. 

'Twas  thus  the  royal  wish  prevailed 

And  Gurth  as  king's  companion  sailed, 

Not  doubting  promised  news  was  sent 

To  bring  this  lady's  heart  content. 

What  deeds  he  wrought,  what  chieftains  fell 

Beneath  his  sword  I  may  not  tell  — 

32 


GURTH 


The  score  is  in  the  minds  of  men 
Who  saw  him  front  the  Scaracen." 

XXIV 

"  Farewell  !  brave  Gurth,  Valhalla's  hall 
Hath  opened  to  thy  spirit's  call, 
The  gods  of  Odin,  Frigga,  Thor 
Have  witnessed  all  thy  deeds  of  war. 
'Twas  thou  who  made  thy  heart  a  shield 
To  erlking  on  the  battle-field, 
And  in  thy  bosom  sheathed  the  lance 
That  flew  to  meet  the  king's  advance. 
Farewell!  Thou  man  of  highest  worth, 
Farewell!  forever,  noble  Gurth." 

XXV 

He  paused  a  moment,  then  he  said: 
"  I  leave  thee,  lady,  with  thy  dead! 
The  gold  he  brought  to  purchase  peace 
Hath  doubled  by  the  swords  increase; 
This  treasure  and  a  priceless  gem  — 
That  graced  a  Kaliph's  diadem  — 
Are  given  though  they  are  but  dross 
If  measured  by  your  mighty  loss. 
Our  king  hath  sent  his  vow  by  me 
To  never  wage  a  war  on  thee." 
Thrice  bowed  he  down  and  then  withdrew 
Close  followed  by  the  sable  crew. 

33 


STORY   AND    SONG 


XXVI 

When  the  setting  sun  was  a  shield  of  gold, 
We  buried  him  down  by  the  sounding  sea; 

Where  the  murm'ring  tide  its  stories  told 
Of  the  changeful  tide  of  humanity. 

Fronting  the  billows  a  monument  stands 

Which  is  carven  deep  with  his  name  and  worth 

The  casket  is  here,  the  soul  in  the  hands 
Of  One  who  ruleth  o'er  heaven  and  earth. 

XXVII 

Long  were  the  days  and  full  of  pain  — 
Hearts  oft  beating  the  same  refrain. 
And  days  were  blended  into  weeks 
Ere  roses  came  to  my  lady's  cheeks. 
Then  Spring  began  to  wake  the  blooms 
And  bade  them  rise  from  lowly  tombs, 
And  flowering  shrub  and  trilling  bird 
Gladdened  the  eye  and  ear  that  heard. 

XXVIII 

Meanwhile  my  lady  sought  to  teach 

My  lips  to  lisp  her  native  speech, 

And  though  the  lesson  hours  were  long 

They  seemed  as  fleeting  as  a  song. 

A  dullard  with  tongue  and  pen 

Must  oft  repeat  the  task  again, 

Sweet  tasks  they  were,  the  volumes  choice 

That  waked  the  murmur  of  her  voice. 

34 


My  harp  long  silent  now  became 

A  tongue  for  thoughts  I  dare  not  name 


GURTH 


For  I  a  double  language  learned 
And  treble  was  the  treasure  earned. 
While  searching  quaint  Italian  books 
I  caught  new  meanings  from  her  looks, 
A  furtive  glance,  a  sigh,  a  word 
The  fondest  hopes  within  me  stirred. 
My  harp  long  silent  now  became 
A  tongue  for  thoughts  I  dare  not  name. 

XXIX 

Thus  ran  the  year  since  Gurth  was  dead, 

At  last  my  lady  gently  said  : 

"  Thou  art  a  nobler  kind  of  Gurth 

Like  one  new  risen  from  the  earth: 

The  form  is  Gurth's,  the  soul  thine  own 

Bereft  of  all  his  harsher  tone. 

Within  a  finer  spirit  reigns 

Washed  clean  of  lawless  crime  and  stains. 

Whilest  thou  hast  caught  a  tongue  from  me 

My  heart  has  been  at  school  to  thee. 

Since  first  I  knew  thou  wert  not  Gurth 

I've  learned  to  rightly  weigh  thy  worth; 

Here  are  my  lands,  my  flocks  and  herds, 

My  bondsmen  who  obey  my  words 

My  castle  with  supreme  command 

I  offer  thee  with  heart  and  hand." 

Speechless  I  stood — no  words  were  mine 

To  answer  such  a  gift  divine. 

I  knelt  me  down,  I  pressed  her  hands, 

Accepted  neither  halls  nor  lands, 

35 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Gave  back  the  cattle  on  the  plain, 
The  sceptre  of  her  rightful  reign  : 
"  Thy  love  is  all  I  seek,"  I  said  ; 
"  I  still  will  serve  when  we  are  wed. 
While  love  supreme  through  longest  life 
Reigns  o'er  us  both  as  man  and  wife. 


KING    EDGAR 

ARGUMENT 

Edgar  the  Peaceable,  hearing  that  Elfrida,  daugh 
ter  of  the  earl  of  Devonshire,  was  very  beautiful,  sent 
his  courtier,  Athelwold,  to  verify  the  rumor  ;  if  true 
he  was  to  propose  marriage  on  the  monarch's  behalf. 
Struck  by  Elfrida's  beauty  Athelwold  wedded  her 
himself,  and  later  reported  that  while  wealthy  her 
beauty  was  exaggerated.  Doubting  this  report  Edgar 
announced  an  early  visit.  In  despair  Athelwold 
begged  his  wife  to  appear  in  coarse  attire  with  her 
beauty  disguised.  Elfrida  at  first  consented  but  when 
the  monarch  arrived  she  approached  with  her  ra 
diant  beauty  enhanced  by  rich  apparel  and  costly 
jewels.  Seeing  that  Athelwold  had  deceived  him  the 
sovereign  took  Elfrida  from  him  and  made  her  queen. 
By  this  union  Elfrida  became  the  ancestress  of  nearly 
all  subsequent  sovereigns  of  England.  This  was 
Edgar's  second  marriage,  his  first  was  deemed  by 
many  unlawful.  Soon  after  the  wedding  Athelwold 
was  found  dead. 

PROLOGUE 

'Twas  spring-time  in  old  England 

Near  a  thousand  years  ago, 
And  roses  red  were  blooming 

As  we  joy  to  see  them  blow, 

37 


STORY   AND   SONG 


The  birds  were  praising  sweetly 
From  the  alder  and  the  bay, 

As  we  have  heard  them  hymning 
In  the  forests  of  today. 

And  hearts  were  full  as  human 

As  those  that  drumming  beat 
On  floral  broidered  byways 

Or  on  our  crowded  street. 
For  noble  hearts  and  lowly, 

The  monarch  on  the  throne 
Are  known  to  sense  the  passions 

Akin  to  those  we  own. 

For  Love  is  still  immortal 

And  sets  the  soul  aglow 
As  once  in  merry  England 

A  thousand  years  ago. 
The  hearts  of  man  and  maiden 

Are  tempest  tossed  today 
As  those  of  stormy  Saxons 

In  cycles  far  away. 

So  you  may  read  this  story 

In  chronicles  of  old, 
And  faintly  hear  the  echoes 

In  recent  annals  told  : 
For  bowing  low  to  beauty 

With  very  latest  breath 
Man  sounds  the  praise  of  woman 

For  whom  he  welcomes  death. 

3$ 


But  sad  the  sovereign, 


KING   EDGAR 


I 

Edgar,  the  peaceful,  of  great  Alfred's  line 
Is  sovereign  of  England  north  to  the  Tyne, 
And  west  till  waters  of  murmuring  Dee 
Are  won  by  wooing  and  sighing  of  sea. 
Here  on  its  bosom  the  Saxon  king  rows 
With  royalest  crew  that  history  knows ; 
Eight  vassal  monarchs  threw  scepters  aside 
And  rowed  the  Peaceable  over  the  tide. 
So  great  his  power,  so  mighty  his  reign, 
Even  the  fiercest  marauders  of  main 
Never  affronted  ;  his  sinewy  arm 
Engirdled  the  Isle  like  magical  charm  : 
Boldest  of  Northmen  from  Gallical  raid 
Sheered  off  from  harbors  of  Edgar  dismayed. 
Valley  and  vale  for  abundant  increase 
Sounded  the  praise  of  the  monarch  of  peace. 

II 

But  sad  the  sovereign,  while  bringing  to  all 
Richest  of  favors  that  heaven  lets  fall, 
Thrice  blessing  his  realm,  found  little  of  rest 
For  longing  unnamed  was  gnawing  his  breast. 
In  watches  of  night  and  glamor  of  day 
A  face  was  present  that  would  not  away, 
Face  of  a  maiden  where  roses  were  born, 
Yet  fair  as  lily  that  opens  at  morn, 
She  seemed  a  phantom  to  vanish  with  night ; 
When  morning  awoke  she  dazzled  his  sight. 

39 


STORY    AND    SONG 


The  lily  and  rose  that  gardened  her  face 
Were  mated  and  matched  with  marvelous  grace. 
Such  was  the  vision  confronting  him  there, 
Though  maids  were  many,  surpassingly  fair, 
And  thronging  his  court  no  beauty  could  boast 
The  features  and  form  that  seemed  but  a  ghost; 
Distraught  the  king  who  through  shadow  and  sheen 
Was  seeking  a  wraith  to  crown  her  a  queen. 

Ill 

The  king  called  a  courtier  up  to  the  throne 
A  wave  of  the  hand  and  twain  were  alone  — 
Spake  unto  him  :  "  Lord  Athelwold,  thane, 
Ever  the  friend  of  King  Edgar  remain ; 
When  questioned  the  stars  gave  answer  to  send 
A  lord  a  journey  if  he  were  a  friend. 
Thy  friendship  I've  nursed  since  rising  to  power, 
Of  noble  and  knight  thou  seemest  the  flower. 
Mid  thousands  to  flatter  'tis  sad  the  throne 
Can  never  rest  sure  of  friend  of  its  own. 
My  brother  be  thou,  yea  closer  than  he, 
For  brothers  oft  covet  scepters  they  see ; 
Be  simply  my  friend,  this  title  I  bring 
The  loftiest  rank  in  gift  of  the  king. 
Friend  Athelwold  knows  as  none  others  do, 
For  oft  I  revealed  my  soul  unto  you, 
In  darkness  of  night,  in  sunshine  I've  seen 
Winsome  one  fair  who  is  fitted  to  queen. 
Last  eve  a  friar  with  swelling  acclaim, 
Gave  to  my  vision  a  palace  and  name  ; 

40 


KING   EDGAR 


O'er  earth  he  journeyed  wherever  there's  sea 
And  came  a-singing  her  praises  to  me, 
Vowing  the  fairest  in  tower  or  town 
Is  maiden  waiting  on  Devonshire  down : 
More  marvelous  still  his  wisdom  can  tell 
The  form  and  features  I've  painted  so  well. 
Ere  parted  my  lips  astonished  1  hear 
Of  lily  and  rose,  orbs  open  and  clear, 
Of  tapering  hand,  a  flower-like  form 
Lithe  as  willow  yet  defiant  of  storm, 
Her  tress  a  garment  of  golden  sunshine, 
Down  falling,  robing  her  figure  confine, 
And  smiling  o'er  all  beyond  her  control 
Half  hidden,  half  shown  her  beautiful  soul. 
The  name  of  this  peerless,  dowerful  girl, 
Elfrida  of  Devon,  heir  to  the  earl, 
Christened  Elfrida,  but  beauty  of  heaven 
Rechristened  the  maiden  Lily  of  Devon. 

IV 

Friend  Athelwold  hear,  the  cares  of  the  state 
Have  bound  me  to  toil  that  cannot  await 
The  king's  a  servant  whom  none  ever  asks 
If  he  be  weary  the  weight  of  his  tasks  ; 
Though  weary  and  worn  I  may  not  this  hour 
Seal  to  another  the  semblance  of  power : 
Thousands  stand  ready  to  grapple  the  crown 
If  idly  the  king  the  bauble  lay  down. 
Therefore,  my  lord,  I  implore  thee  to  seek  — 
Though  I  might  command,  in  friendship  I  speak 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Speed  thou  to  Devon,  and  on  my  behalf 
With  wisdom  akin  to  cunning  and  craft 
Lay  to  this  Lily  a  seige  of  the  heart  ; 
While  screening  the  monarch,  playing  a  part, 
Deeply  plumb  nature  though  queenly  her  face 
She  may  be  unworthy  the  throne  to  grace, 
May  never  own  virtues  rumor  hath   said 
To  give  England  kings  when  Edgar  lies  dead. 
Thou  wilt  be  wary  while  weighing  her  well 
Before  your  mission  more  openly  tell. 
And  thou  wilt  be  faithful,  faithful  to  death  — 
Safe  guarding  each  gesture,  wording  and  breath  ? 
From  airiest  nothings,  frown  or  a  sigh 
Tenderest  love  is  soon  drooping  to  die; 
Carry  her  jewels,  this  necklace  and  ring, 
Which  you  may  bestow  as  gifts  of  the  king  : 
This  hoop  bears  legend  in  symbol  and  sign 
To  prove  high  descent  from  Saracen  line, 
From  Araby  kaliph  thro  kaliph  of  Spain 
It  came  to  hand  of  le  roy  Charlemagne, 
Then  o'er  the  water  to  Egbert  the  king, 
Sovereign  of  England,  safe  journeyed  the  ring. 
It  reads  :  "  The  owner  to  whom  I  come  down 
Will  find  me  a  seed  to  grow  to  a  crown." 
Keep  it  shall  Devon  or  fairest  or  plain 
Discrowned  is  the  king  asking  gifts  again. 
In  sending  thee  forth  to  woo  me  a  wife, 
I'm  trusting  a  friend  with  more  than  my  life, 
For  life  swiftly  flies,  while  trumpet  of  fame 
May  ever  resound  with  honor  and  name. 

42 


KING   EDGAR 


With  mine  will  be  wedded,  ever  more  seen 
Name  of  the  maiden  I  crown  as  a  queen. 
Once  more  be  faithful,  this  Lily  is  mine 
If  rumor  be  true,  if  false  call  her  thine." 

V 

Young  was  the  morrow  when  lord  rode  away, 
Monarch  nor  wooer  would  longer  delay. 
He  hastened  through  day,  at  even  he  sped, 
Staid  him  but  little  for  victual  or  bed; 
Stalwart  the  charger  and  steady  and  strong 
That  carried  Athelwold  gaily  along. 
Squire  and  servant  were  left  far  behind 
P\>r  Athelwold  rode  with  pace  of  the  wind; 
He  saw  no  primrose  that  broidered  the  way 
Nor  noted  hawthorns  that  scented  the  day, 
Heard  not  the  thrushes  the  lark  sang  in  vain 
As  Athelwold  galloped  through  forest  and  lane. 
What  recked  he  of  songs  or  flowers  though  rare, 
When  Lily  of  Devon  awaited  him  there. 
Three  days  he  journeyed  and  half  of  a  night 
Ere  towers  of  Devon  arose  on  his  sight. 
The  sun  in  splendor  was  sinking  to  rest 
Gilding  a  banner  with  Devonshire  crest; 
High  waved  the  pennon  from  crown  of  tower 
Defiantly  boasting  Devonshire's  power. 
Adown  the  drawbridge,  what  need  they  to  fear, 
No  foeman  was  nigh,  no  danger  anear. 
Descended  the  ward  ;  when  Athelwold  came 
Announcing  his  station,  ranking  and  fame, 

43 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Portals  flew  open  and  Athelwold  tall 

Safeguided  entered  the  banqueting  hall. 

Far  on  the  dais  the  courtier  beheld 

Masterful  man  who  was  wrinkled  with  eld, 

Defying  all  seasons,  wisdom  and  might 

Burning  in  eyes  that  were  flaming  with  light, 

Hidden  by  brows  that  were  shaggy  and  raven; 

While  snowiest  locks  and  whisker  unshaven 

Were  framing  a  face  deeply  engraven 

With  mystical  signs  from  chisel  of  time, 

Hinting  at  struggle  and  whispering  crime, 

While  searching,  groping  for  magical  lore 

Of  Druid  and  mage  of  ages  before. 

And  years  of  Devonshire's  toiling  and  search 

Had  severed  him  far  from  bosom  of  church. 

Travelers  who  journeyed  in  darkness  of  night 

Saw  from  his  tower  a  devious  light 

Streaming  through  blackness,  while  quivering  air 

Seemed  to  give  echoes  to  groans  of  despair. 

For  wisdom  he  searched  in  passionate  strife 

To  riddle  at  length  the  secret  of  life  ; 

Seeking  a  weapon,  or  shield  of  defense 

When  angel  of  death  should  summon  him  hence. 

And  there  on  feature  and  marvelous  form 

Record  was  graven  of  study  and  storm. 


VI 


The  usher  announcing  AthelwokTs  name 
Gave  voice  to  titles,  fair  station  and  fame. 

44 


KING   EDGAR 


"Welcome  Lord  Athelwold,  welcome  I  bring 
To  him  whose  station  is  near  to  the  king; 
But  if  art  hither  for  pleasure's  delight 
My  lord  was  surely  misguided  tonight. 
Ancient  the  tower  and  gloomy  the  place 
That  shelters  the  last  of  Devonshire's  race. 
He  who  is  master  of  moorland  and  hall 
Stands  fronting  the  sea  awaiting  the  call! 
Fearlessly  watches  with  touches  of  pride 
For  shadowy  barge  from  over  the  tide, 
Then  out  through  harbor  and  on  to  the  west 
Orgar  of  Devon  will  hasten  to  rest. 
But  thou  art  welcome,  'tis  spending  the  breath 
To  whisper  an  old  man's  boding  of  death; 
I  only  designed  when  put  to  the  test, 
To  warn  yet  welcome  to  Devon  a  guest." 
The  words  spake  welcome  but  manner  and  tone 
Showed  master  content  while  dwelling  alone; 
With  sepulcheral  voice  potent  to  chill 
Warmest  of  words  and  the  welcome  to  kill. 

VII 

Though  cold  the  welcome  the  courtier  advanced, 
Fearless  of  danger  if  danger  there  chanced, 
Nor  noble  nor  knight  in  England's  array 
Was  braver  than  he  who  journeyed  that  day. 
The  thane  found  supper  the  sewer  had  spread 
Kinder  than  greetings  the  master  had  said, 
And  sav'ry  dishes  and  generous  wine 
Caused  earl  and  the  lord  to  discourse  incline. 

45 


STORY    AND    SONG 


The  first  oft  listened  to  annals  well  told 
Of  monarch  and  court  by  Lord  Athelwold. 
And  pleased  was  courtier  with  Athelstane's  might 
In  battle  which  filled  a  day  and  a  night, 
Where  Orgar,  the  earl,  while  fronting  a  Dane 
Was  scarred  in  the  face  ere  foeman  was  slain. 
And  late  the  hour  ere  master  and  guest 
Turned  thoughts  aweary  to  couches  of  rest. 

VIII 

Athelwold  guided  by  servitor  old 
Ascended  the  stairs,  contented  and  bold, 
He  had  met  the  earl  and  conquered  in  part 
Deeper  resentment  hid  in  his  heart. 
But  hardly  he  paced  in  uppermost  hall 
Ere  vision  appeared  a  heart  to  appall  — 
Appalling  at  first  for  rumor  had  told 
Of  magical  art  in  Devonshire  hold, 
And  surmise  arose  the  lord  of  the  tower 
Was  seeking  to  test  his  courage  that  hour, 
Sending  dark  specters  his  guest  to  affright 
While  stalking  to  rest  at  nooning  of  night. 
Afar  in  blackness  of  midnight  there  came 
Shadowy  maiden  upholding  a  flame, 
Hooded  and  robed  in  the  hue  of  the  night, 
With  tapering  fingers  only  in  sight, 
Wierdly  she  glided  a  serpentine  way 
Chanting  whilever  a  musical  lay, 
Hither  and  thither  remeasured  the  hall, 
Crooning  and  runing  another  to  call. 

46 


KING   EDGAR 


Then  out  of  nethermost  part  of  the  gloom 
Answered  a  second  and  entered  the  room, 
Black  hooded  and  cloaked  with  taper  of  light, 
Glided  and  measured  from  left  unto  right. 
Then  circled  the  twain  with  arms  intertwined 
With  tapers  aflare  in  move  of  the  wind, 
Their  number  increased  as  forward  they  aim 
Full  filling  the  hall  with  flickering  flame, 
While  echoing  aisles  with  music  resound 
Like  murmuring  ocean  where  grottoes  abound, 
In  circles  advancing,  with  sirenous  din, 
Screening  and  hiding  a  maiden  within, 
Whose  figure  tallest,  whose  rounded  arms  white, 
Holding  and  swaying  twin  torches  of  light. 
Unhooded  was  she,  her  bosom  was  bare, 
While  fallen,  a  robe,  was  marvelous  hair  ; 
Of  gold  it  seemed  woven  mingled  with  light 
Such  was  the  being  that  dazzled  his  sight ! 
He  saw  not  her  face,  but  partial  her  form 
Yet  was  reminded  of  glorious  morn. 
When  vanished  the  train,  from  sheltering  niche 
He  groped  through  hallway  in  darkness  of  pitch. 
And  finding  his  room  by  servitor's  light 
Visions  were  wafted  surpassingly  bright. 

IX 

The  sun  was  robing  fair  earth  with  his  beams 
Ere  Athelwold  rose  from  glorious  dreams  ; 
Again  was  ushered  to  banqueting  hall 
Where  Orgar  of  Devon  awaited  his  call, 

47 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Who  gave  him  good  morn  and  trusted  that  night 
Had  woven  fair  dreams  till  dawning  of  light. 
Athelwold  answered  that  visions  more  rare 
Had  never  enchanted  slumberer  there, 
Nor  could  he  give  o'er  how  e'er  it  might  seem 
That  fairest  beheld  was  more  than  a  dream. 
Lord  Athelwold  ceased  for  tongue  must  be  still 
When  pictures  enthrall  and  fetter  the  will, 
All  other  senses  are  dumb  with  surprise, 
And  life  is  centered  alone  in  the  eyes. 
The  tapestry  trembled,  open  it  swung, 
Revealing  the  cause  that  silenced  his  tongue. 
Rarest  of  hangings  enveiling  the  door 
Enframed  the  maiden  of  even  before ; 
White  as  a  lilly  yet  roses  grew  there 
And  reddened  a  cheek  enchantingly  fair. 
On  threshold  she  paused  a  moment  and  stood 
Self-poised  in  the  charm  of  sweet  maidenhood; 
Swiftly  bewitching,  alluring  the  soul 
To  yield  the  will  to  another's  control, 
She  staid  a  moment,  her  footsteps  advance 
While  Athelwold  waked  from  out  of  a  trance. 
"  The  Lily  of  Devon,  the  last  of  our  race," 
Spake  the  earl ;  Athelwold  greeted  with  grace. 
The  courtier  was  piqued  that  castle-bred  girl 
Though  being  the  daughter  of  Orgar,  the  earl, 
Should  show  by  a  smile  the  glance  of  her  eye 
Caused  a  king's  courtier  to  stammer  and  sigh. 
Fair  ladies  he  knew,  sweet  maidens  by  score, 
Yet  none  ever  moved  as  this  one  before. 

48 


On  threshold  she  paused  a  moment  and  stood 
Self-poised  in  the  charm  of  sweet  maidenhood. 


KING    EDGAR 


"  Ah  father,  Lily  of  Devon  requests 
The  pleasure  of  welcoming  hither  thy  guests, 
And  thou  hast  kept  secret  our  castle  did  hold 
Thane  of  King  Edgar,  the  Lord  Athelwold." 
u  Nay,  daughter,"  began  her  sire,  with  pride ; 
"  'Twas  eve  when  Athelwold  finished  his  ride. 
Down  was  the  day-star,  the  light  of  my  bower 
Had  banished  herself  to  shrine  in  the  tower, 
To  robe  as  priestess  in  garments  of  white 
And  train  her  maidens  in  service  aright. 
'  Twas  unbeseeming  when  guest  did  appear, 
That  I  should  disturb  and  summon  her  here ; 
Trusting  my  lord  would  not  vanish  away 
But  wait  a  sunnier  welcome  to-day, 
Hoping  thy  greeting  would  prove  a  sweet  power 
To  bind  a  season  in  Devonshire  tower." 

X 

Lord  Athelwold  said  :     "  I'm  doubly  in  debt 
For  richest  of  blessings  heart  ever  met ; 
Though  hooded  mine  eyes,  a  heavenly  voice 
Would  welcome  me  blind  and  bid  me  rejoice, 
And  were  I  but  deaf  the  brightness  I  see 
Would  still  be  warmest  of  greetings  to  me  : 
With  vision  secure  and  hearing  beside 
I  beg  with  Devon  awhile  to  abide. 
A  gracious  monarch  hath  granted  thy  guest 
Some  days  to  loiter  as  seemeth  him  best, 
And  I  like  miser,  who  searches  for  gold, 
Would  seek  a  treasure  in  Devonshire  hold; 

49 


STORY   AND    SONG 


The  rumor  hath  flown  to  ends  of  the  land 
That  power  abides  in  Devonshire's  hand; 
That  wisdom  of  Merlin,  magic  and  power 
Are  known  to  the  lord  of  Devonshire  tower. 
Like  monarch  perchance  thou  wilt  grant  to  one 
A  ray  of  wisdom  that  hither  hath  run." 

XI 

"  Lord  Athelwold,  thane,  all  rumors  that  fly 

Of  magical  spells  are  naught  but  a  lie. 

Those  sleeping  in  tombs  breathe  nothing  of  worth, 

In  flesh  are  bodied  the  fairies  of  earth ; 

No  magic  so  mighty  'neath  the  blue  sky 

As  written  and  hidden  in  fair  woman's  eye. 

Wooing  sweet  wisdom,  some  secrets  are  mine; 

In  alchemy's  fires  some  metals  I  fine. 

Doubt  not,  my  lord,  there  are  words  to  be  told 

Turning  base  metals  to  richest  of  gold. 

With  coffers  of  gold  ambition's  a  might 

To  raise  a  fair  youth  to  giddiest  height — 

A  hand  is  ambition  heaven  lets  down 

To  lift  the  courageous  up  to  a  crown. 

But  lore  of  Merlin  is  learning  of  age, 

Wisdom  comes  late  at  the  uttermost  page ; 

And  now  I  am  old,  with  wisdom  sublime 

I  ne'er  can  hinder  the  scything  of  Time. 

Spite  of  much  treasure  and  something  of  lore 

The  days  of  Orgar  are  barely  a  score." 


KING   EDGAR 


XII 

"Father,  forego,"  urged  the  Devonshire  heir. 
"  Preach  never  again  such  creed  of  despair ; 
Bright  is  the  morning,  no  cloud  in  the  sky, 
'Tis  sweet  to  be  living,  if  destined  to  die. 
I  fear  Lord  Athelwold,  hearing  thy  strain, 
May  call  for  charger  and  journey  again." 
"Nay,  Lady  of  Devon,  thy  sire's  sad  word, 
Though  painful  to  hear,  is  oftenest  heard. 
The  singer  of  morn  lies  silent  at  night, 
Blossom  of  noontide  falls  fading  with  light, 
Fairest  of  earthly  in  sunshine  of  God 
May  sleep  to-morrow  in  couches  of  sod. 
But  deeper  than  wisdom  the  words  ye  say : 
c  JTis  sweet  to  be  living  even  a  day, 
And  out  in  the  sunshine  breezes  will  bear 
Far  on  their  pinions  the  minions  of  care.' " 

XIII 

Lily  of  Devon  and  the  Lord  Athelwold 
Passed  out  in  the  sunshine's  glitter  and  gold, 
And  dayshine  faded  ere  Lily  and  thane 
Re-entered  the  castle  for  shelter  again. 
But  slow  marched  hours  ere  blessings  of  rest 
Lighted  on  him  who  was  Devonshire's  guest. 
Nameless  and  dreadful  forebodings  besiege 
A  heart  devoted  to  Edgar  his  liege. 
Bright  was  the  morrow  when  courtier  arose, 
Doubtful  and  fearful  what  eve  would  disclose. 


STORY    AND    SONG 


Again  they  wandered  earth's  beautiful  room, 
Where  forests  were  gay  with  budding  and  bloom  ; 
Listened  to  carol  and  fluting  of  thrush 
A-wooing  a  wife  from  blossoming  bush  ; 
Hearing  the  brooklet  race  tuneful  away 
Through  moorland  and  meadow  down  to  the  bay. 
Lord  Athelwold  told  of  monarch  and  court, 
His  sovereign  he  praised  in  faithful  report; 
Of  noble  and  knight,  of  lady  and  squire, 
Lily  of  Devon  seemed  never  to  tire. 
This  day's  a  copy  of  others  that  passed, 
While  stronger  and  stronger  fetters  were  cast 
That  prisoned  the  courtier,  weakened  his  power 
To  sever  away  from  Devonshire  flower. 
Each  night  a  courage  and  faithfulness  grew 
To  vanish  at  morn  like  traces  of  dew. 
Afar  the  Lily  though  fairest  of  fair 
Grew  doubly  enchanting  present  to  share 
The  sunshiny  meadow,  choirs  and  flowers, 
Nature  conspiring  to  heighten  her  powers. 
One  evening  the  moon  was  lending  her  light 
To  silver  the  forest,  moorland  and  height, 
While  lord  and  lady  together  abide 
Lulled  by  the  chant  of  the  murmuring  tide. 
Out  o'er  the  deluge  that  billowing  rolls, 
Drifting  and  drifting  together  their  souls ; 
The  crudest  moon,  abusing  her  power, 
Was  binding  with  magic  spirits  that  hour; 
And  over  the  lord  came  wonderful  peace, 
Commanding  all  struggle  to  vanish  and  cease. 

52 


KING    EDGAR 


Old  Ocean  roared  loudly,  tauntingly  said  : 
"  Courage,  O  courtier,  is  needed  to  wed." 
But  into  the  hall  crept  specters  of  wrong 
To  battle  with  right  till  coming  of  dawn. 

XIV 

One  morn  spake  courtier  :  "  Fair  lady,  I  bring 
These  treasures  of  beauty,  gifts  of  the  king  : 
This  jewel  journeyed  to  heighten  thy  hand 
And  this  thy  bosom  by  royal  command. 
Now  listen  to  madness,  harken  to  me  ! 
I  offer  my  being  and  life  unto  thee; 
These  also  are  baubles  fame,  fortune,  and  life 
If  maiden  of  Devon  be  never  my  wife. 
Art  silent,  O  Lily?     Thy  heart  oppressed 
With  longing  unspoken,  nameless  unrest? 
You  may  be  destined  through  dangerous  love 
To  rise  on  a  corse  to  station  above. 
Dreaming  you  may  be  of  highest  renown ; 
Fate  may  be  shaping  your  scepter  and  crown  ; 
Hidden  the  future,  mine  eyes  fail  to  see 
What  Time  is  weaving  fair  Devon  and  me. 
But  once  you  declared  the  gauds  of  the  crown 
Are  dust  in  the  scales  that  love  weighteth  down. 
I  offer  thee  love  with  life  and  my  name, 
Yet  nothing  from  thee  can  Athelwold  claim. 
While  kneeling  to  woo  I  trust  that  your  lips 
The  light  of  my  hope  and  life  will  eclipse. 
If  Lily  but  say :  '  Heart  loveth  thee  not,' 
In  death  shall  glory  of  earth  be  forgot. 

S3 


STORY   AND    SONG 


On  nethermost  edge  of  being  I  stand 
Awaiting  a  word,  one  sign  of  command; 
No  moan  will  I  make,  nor  censure  nor  blame  — 
I  love,  and  therefore  can  never  complain; 
Whatever  thou  givest,  blessing  or  dole, 
Receives  the  sanction  of  me  and  my  soul." 
She  paused  a  moment  awaiting  to  fling 
Rain  from  her  eyes  on  the  gift  of  the  king, 
Gave  but  a  glance  to  the  glittering  band 
Then  to  her  lover  her  tapering  hand. 
He  needed  no  word,  nor  signal,  nor  sign — 
The  smile  that  she  lent  was  near  the  divine. 

XV 

Not  lightly  Athelwold  yielded  and  fell, 
He  fought  full  often  the  mightiest  spell, 
Battled  through  hours  of  snail-footed  night, 
Yet  meeting  defeat  with  dawning  of  light. 
He  marshaled  all  forces  captained  by  reason, 
Plainly  they  pointed  his  pathway  was  treason, 
But  touch  of  the  hand  when  moonlight  lay  still 
Routed  the  reason  and  prisoned  the  will. 
He  strove  for  the  king,  but  striving  was  vain; 
His  soul  cried  aloud  at  torture  and  pain. 
In  darkness  he  vowed  the  monarch  must  win, 
Each  motive  for  self  was  treacherous  sin ; 
Let  morning  arise  and  maiden  advance — 
The  king  was  unhorsed  by  Athelwold's  lance. 
What  mortal  should  boast :  u  I  never  shall  fail ; 
My  virtues  thrice  clad  in  garments  of  mail, 

54 


KING    EDGAR 


Howe'er  temptation  is  armored  to  ride, 

I  dare  to  battle  whatever  betide." 

For  many  be  true  from  birth  till  they  die  — 

Save  a  vast  treasure  come  temptingly  nigh  ! 

Thus  a  sheaf  of  days  Time  gathered  away 

Till  Athelwold  vowed  no  longer  delay. 

The  morrow  he  pledged  to  saddle  and  ride 

And  beg  the  monarch  the  Lily  for  bride. 

Musing  he  spake  :  "  Ev'ry  vassal  must  bring 

All  of  his  own  to  the  feet  of  his  king. 

Bow  to  the  monarch  in  struggle  and  strife, 

Willingly  yielding  his  fortune  and  life, 

Flinging  all  things  away,  trampling  them  down, 

Life,  castles  and  lands  for  sake  of  the  crown. 

But  heaven  itself  has  dowered  the  soul 

With  rights  surrendered  to  no  man's  control. 

And  the  king  's  a  man  —  in  joustings  of  love 

Let  victory  fare  to  the  favored  above." 

So  to  the  master  he  hastily  said, 

As  fearing  resolve  might  weaken  and  ebb  : 

u  Fate  is  surely  unkind  sending  me  here 

With  little  of  lore  the  aged  to  cheer. 

Now  on  the  morrow,  at  breaking  of  day, 

I  must  leave  my  lord  and  hasten  away. 

Regretfully  I  my  journey  retrace, 

And  sadly  I  say  :  c  Farewell  to  your  grace.'  " 

XVI 

"Athelwold,  pardon  the  man  in  the  sire 
Bidding  thee  stay  when  you  wish  to  retire ; 

55 


STORY    AND    SONG 


Fate  may  be  unkind,  or  frowning  or  fair, 

But  stars  sent  thee  here  to  husband  mine  heir. 

Nor  couldst  thou  prevent.     'Twas  woven  in  soul, 

Transcending  all  bounds  of  human  control. 

How  unraveled  I  this  ?     Athelwold  thane, 

Never  a  volume  was  lettered  as  plain ! 

I  count  not  the  lore  of  magi  of  old 

Save  as  you  answer  the  prophecy  told  : 

'  When  Devonshire  race  is  centered  in  one 

Great  lord  of  the  realm  shall  hitherward  run. 

From  Winchester  town  a  treasure  he  brings 

To  Devonshire  heir,  fair  mother  of  kings.' 

I  know  Lord  Athelwold  loveth  my  girl ; 

Her  hand  is  studded  with  marvelous  pearl. 

The  circle  of  gold  in  cunning  design 

Is  gift  prophetic  to  scion  of  mine. 

Close  drawn  to  Lily  thou  wilt  not  deny, 

For  lips  of  Athelwold  scorneth  a  lie. 

Behold  how  river  is  drawn  to  the  sea ; 

Gaze  now  on  flower  alluring  the  bee  ; 

Earth  thirsty  looks  up  and  crieth  aloud 

Till  heavens  give  down  the  milk  of  the  cloud; 

There  are  metals  that  tug  the  heart  of  a  stone  — 

Think  ye  your  lordship  is  standing  alone  ! 

Must  river  yield  all  its  treasure  to  tide? 

Must  blossom  grow  sweets  that  bees  may  abide? 

Must  clouds  send  harvests  o'er  valley  and  plain 

And  you  yield  nothing?     O,  answer  me,  thane  ! 

Why,  even  the  stars,  while  lamping  at  night, 

Are  marshaled  and  led  in  marvelous  flight. 


KING   EDGAR 


Thy  blossom  she  is,  sea,  starlight  and  earth, 
Desired  and  longed  for  since  moments  of  birth. 
Shall  Nature,  who  belted  all  things  by  power, 
Be  baffled  and  beaten  in  Devonshire  tower  ? 
Nay !  while  man  is  summit  and  crown  of  all, 
He,  too,  though  highest,  is  none  but  a  thrall. 
Name  I  the  numberless  claims  of  mine  heir: 
Virtue  and  beauty,  the  shine  of  her  hair, 
Her  princely  estates,  the  riches  of  keep, 
To  start  Lord  Athelwold  out  of  his  sleep  ! 
With  one  step  on  the  stair,  claim  as  your  own 
Second,  to  bring  you  anigh  to  the  throne. 
With  mine  heir  for  spouse,  my  gold  to  allure, 
You  surely  might  even  a  crown  secure ; 
Near  to  a  king  who  unlawfully  wed, 
What  hinders  your  reign  when  Edgar  lies  dead  ? 
All  numbered  my  days,  mine  hours  are  told 
When  outward  I  sail  from  Devonshire  hold; 
Ere  vanishing  I  would  dower  the  bride, 
Who  holds  in  herself  all  Devonshire  pride. 
This  eve  where  moonlight  illumines  my  bed 
The  daughter  of  Devon  will  wait  you  to  wed." 

XVII 

Bright  moon  was  rising  o'er  Alington  height, 
With  courtier  dreaming  near  nooning  of  night, 
But  clouds  were  marshaling  far  in  the  west 
When  servitor  broke  on  Athelwold's  rest. 
Into  his  presence  with  torches  aflame 
Herald  and  warder  to  Athelwold  came. 

57 


STORY    AND    SONG 


They  robed  him  in  green,  they  darkened  his  eyes, 
Naming  the  pleasure  of  gentle  surprise. 
Then  out  afield  he  was  silently  led 
Till  Druidical  oak  over  him  spread, 
Giant  of  ages  though  storm  after  storm 
Had  tugged  its  branches  and  twisted  its  form. 
Here  Athelwold's  eyes  were  given  again 
To  see  himself  pent  in  circles  of  men, 
Twelve  circles,  each  man  with  symbol  abreast 
To  mark  a  vassal  of  Devonshire  crest. 
And  centermost  there  beheld  them  unfurl 
Armorial  banner  of  Devonshire's  earl, 
High  waving  o'er  him,  who  drawing  each  breath 
Was  battling  most  fiercely  demons  of  death. 
Lord  Athelwold  heard  rejoicing  and  song, 
Eerily  creeping  on  zephyrs  along, 
Stronger  and  louder  far  voices  acclaim, 
Mingling  his  own  with  Devonshire  name ; 
While  o'er  the  meadow  in  moonlight  there  came 
Black  robed  procession  with  tapers  aflame, 
Gliding  and  weaving  fair  shadows  of  night, 
With  tapering  fingers  holding  a  light, 
Encircling  onward  around  and  around 
Lily  of  Devon  with  tresses  unbound, 
Enrobed  in  a  gown,  the  hue  of  the  sky, 
Matching  the  blue  in  the  deeps  of  her  eye. 
Thus  forward  moved  they  till  under  the  wood 
They  girded  around  where  Athelwold  stood 
Near  to  the  Lily,  whose  bridal  array 
Created  her  fair  as  dawning  of  day. 

58 


Gliding  and  weaving  fair  shadows  of  night, 
With  tapering  fingers  holding  a  light. 


KING    EDGAR 


Spake  masterful  man  of  Devonshire  tower : 
"I  give  her  my  lord,  I  give  her  with  dower, 
That  runs  with  Torridge  and  races  the   Dart, 
Exmoor  and  Dartmoor  are  parcel  and  part, 
From  Elfracombe  Bay  to  Bigbury  sands, 
Tavistock,  Tiverton  hear  our  commands ; 
Tavy  and  Teign  ye  may  rightfully  claim, 
Treasure  and  castles  of  Devonshire  name." 
In  weakness  paused  he  —  the  struggle  severe  — 
Yet  rising  from  couch  resembling  a  bier, 
Beckoned  one  forward,  a  being  more  eld, 
Than  e'er  had  eyes  of  the  courtier  beheld. 
He  towered  aloft  'neath  mistletoe  bough, 
With  countenance  calm,  a  wonderful  brow 
Deep  rutted  and  wrinkled,  written  with  years 
Of  study  which  banished  longing  and  fears. 
Snow  is  no  whiter  than  vestments  he  wore, 
Woven  with  signs  of  Druidical  lore. 
From  sire  to  son  his  knowledge  had  run 
Down  from  ages  ere  the  Saxon  begun. 
Slowly  to  music  like  murmuring  rain 
With  mystical  rites  he  united  the  twain. 
No  cross  of  the  church  nor  miter  was  there, 
As  Orgar  was  deemed  a  wizard  of  air. 
Symbol  of  earth  was  man,  maid  of  the  sky, 
Wed  in  purity  with  love  from  on  high. 
Yonder  the  ocean  in  anthem  of  song, 
Yonder  the  forest  the  echoes  prolong, 
Above  them  the  blue,  beneath  them  lay  spread 
A  rug  of  daisies,  when  Lily  was  wed. 

59 


STORY   AND    SONG 


But  ere  from  wedding  they  journeyed  them  back 
The  moon  was  shrouded  with  mantle  of  black. 
Still  home  through  meadow  came  blithely  the  train, 
Joyously  chanting  a  bridal  refrain 
Into  the  banqueting  hallway,  the  groom 
Proudly  safe  guarding  his  Devonshire  bloom ; 
And  Dawn  rose-tinted  the  sky  in  the  east 
Ere  bride  and  the  groom  had  quitted  the  feast. 

XVIII 

As  they  departed,  shrill  clarion  call 
Startled  all  inmates  of  tower  and  hall. 
Unasked  to  Devon  a  messenger  came 
And  summoned  the  groom  in  the  sovereign's  name 
"  The  king  and  nobles  in  knightly  array 
Await  your  lordship  at  Bigbury  Bay. 
Answers  are  vain — you  must  saddle  and  ride, 
Away  though  it  be  from  virginal  bride." 
The  bride  was  in  sorrow,  the  groom  saw  the  sign ; 
He  pledged  his  love  in  a  goblet  of  wine; 
Fondly  he  folded  her  form  in  embrace, 
Lightly  his  lips  touched  the  bloom  in  her  face. 
Then,  vowing  return  ere  close  of  the  day, 
He  mounted  his  steed  and  galloped  away. 
He  spared  not  the  charger  nor  spur  nor  whip 
Till  seeing  the  haven  girdling  the  ship, 
Praying  and  urging  the  courser  to  bring 
Master  perplext  to  the  feet  of  the  king, 
A  miser  of  moments  hoarding  the  time 
Though  rider  and  horse  were  mottled  with  grime. 

60 


KING   EDGAR 


Warder  was  ready  awaiting  the  thane 
And  ushered  him  in  as  slackened  the  rein. 

XIX 

"  Lord  Athelwold,  thane,"  said  monarch  who  reigned, 
"  Hast  ever  the  friend  of  Edgar  remained, 
Or  art  thou  traitor  with  ravenest  heart 
Enmasking  to  play  a  villainous  part? 
A  mission  I  gave ;  now  bring  me  the  truth, 
For  hope  there's  little  of  shriving  or  ruth." 
Down  sank  Athelwold  haggard  and  old, 
And  this  to  monarch  most  haltingly  told  : 
"  Sovereign,  a  child  is  unable  to  bear 
Burdens  an  elder  may  toss  in  the  air; 
Unyielding,  he  seeks  by  tugging  at  length 
To  carry  a  weight  surpassing  his  strength, 
Knowing  naught  of  weakness  till  end  of  test  — 
May  die  in  struggle  at  sire's  behest. 
A  child  kneels  lowly,  O  Sovereign  of  State, 
To  tell  of  burden  he  fears  was  too  great. 
Like  youth  he  ventured  till  waters  above 
Have  sunken  him  deep  in  ocean  of  love. 
Thou  sentest  me  forth  a  burden  to  bring  — 
To  judge  if  maiden  be  fit  for  the  king, 
Labor  far  greater  than  ever  my  power  — 
Tastes  differ,  my  king,  as  flower  from  flower. 
What  pleasures  one  sight  brings  pain  to  another, 
What  nourishes  me  may  weaken  a  brother, 
What  is  fair  to  eye  of  vassal  may  bring 
Not  delight,  but  loathing,  when  seen  by  king. 

61 


STORY    AND    SONG 


Sweet  music,  to  some,  is  honey  of  joys; 
To  those  discordant,  it  wholly  annoys. 
Beauty  herself  is  a  creature  of  minds  — 
Outer  is  only  what  inner  one  finds, 
A  shading  of  hair,  a  curve  of  a  line 
Makes  homely  to  one,  to  others  divine. 
Great  nations  have  passed  and  monarchs  have  died 
For  beauties  others  could  hardly  abide. 
Broaden  a  feature  or  slender  it  down, 
Queen  Beauty  is  reft  of  scepter  and  crown; 
Change  but  a  hair-breadth,  though  nothing  it  harms, 
The  Fairy  hath  fled  with  magical  charms. 
How,  then,  could  I  vow  the  Devonshire  maid  — 
Though  fair  in  mine  eyes  and  virtue-arrayed  — 
Could  fill  the  orbs  of  my  king  with  delight 
Had  I  dared  to  present  her  fore  him  to-night  ? 
Though  lighting  my  hall,  her  beauty  might  shine 
With  little  luster  in  palace  like  thine; 
Her  hair  may  ensnare  a  courtier,  I  vow, 
But  never  enmesh  great  monarch  as  thou. 
True,  she  hath  gold  and  vast  treasure  at  hand  — 
These  if  thou  deignest  are  thine  to  command. 
So  starry  the  height  is  majesty  seen, 
Only  the  royal  seems  fitted  to  queen  ; 
Then  why  should  mightiest  monarch  of  earth 
Husband  a  maiden  less  royal  of  birth? 
In  France  dwells  princess  of  Charlemagne's  line, 
And  one  waits  wooer  o'er  waters  of  Rhine ; 
Choose  thou  among  kindred,  king  from  a  king, 
From  royalest  blood  let  mightiest  spring, 

62 


KING   EDGAR 


And  leave  to  thy  vassal,  who  offers  his  life, 
Devonshire  maid  he  hath  taken  to  wife." 

XX 

"  What  said  Lord  Athelwold  !   say  not  again ! 
That  thou  art  falsest  ';r.ong  races  of  men, 
Even  have  dared  in  Devonshire  tower 
To  rival  thy  king  and  mate  with  his  flower. 
Surely  you  saw  in  some  feature,  her  eyes, 
Traces  of  beauty,  then  grasped  at  the  prize. 
Thine  orbs  were  not  thine,  all  visions  were  mine; 
For  me  they  beheld  her  beauty  ashine  — 
Thine  eyes  but  mirrors  to  mirror  to  me 
Feature  and  form  that  they  seemed  but  to  see. 
If  your  ear  caught  notes  of  caroling  voice, 
'Twas  justice  that  I  alone  should  rejoice. 
If  you  touched  for  self  such  touches  defile, 
All  mine  the  harvest  of  blessing  and  smile. 
The  love  you  sensed  in  your  innermost  part 
Was  woven  of  throbs  that  beat  in  my  heart. 
Stark  naked  you  stand — no  shield  of  defense  — 
For  monarch  was  I  of  every  sense. 
As  you  rob  me  of  heaven,  blessing  thyself, 
Why  prate  of  the  theft  of  paltrier  pelf? 
Why  mention  the  dross  when  deeps  of  your  soul, 
Emotions  and  thoughts,  were  mine  to  control  ? 
My  presence  depart,  swift  fleeting  the  hours 
Till  meeting  again  in  Devonshire  towers." 


STORY   AND    SONG 


XXI 

Lord  Athelwold  raced  as  racer  for  life 
Till,  seated  beside  his  beautiful  wife, 
Spake  to  the  Lily :  "  The  King  of  the  Isle 
Comes  hither,  lady,  to  tarry  awhile. 
And  if  'twill  please  you  to  humor  me  now, 
I  pray  you  darken  your  snowy-hued  brow, 
Banish  the  roses  abloom  in  your  face, 
Your  bosom  with  coarsest  fustian  enlace, 
These  wonderful  locks  unrivaled  by  peer 
I  beg  most  swiftly  you  harvest  with  shear, 
With  pigments  of  brown  your  fairness  efface 
And  mask  a  season  your  willowy  grace." 
"  My  lord,"  said  the  Lily,  "  pray  thee  explain. 
Why  darken  my  brow,  and  roses  unstain  ? 
Has  innocent  hair  been  guilty  of  treason, 
To  perish  at  once  without  rhyme  or  reason  ? 
Why,  even  a  hind  feels  pleasure  and  pride 
In  grace  that  arrays  his  virginal  bride. 
What  crime  is  so  base  that  in  the  king's  eyes 
I  must  amble  a  drudge  in  sloven's  disguise  ? 
'Tis  said  sweet  beauty  is  scepter  and  power ; 
Must  I  cast  her  off  in  Devonshire  tower?" 
"True  beauty  enchants,"  said  Lord  Athelwold, 
"  But  graces  of  mind  are  the  anchors  that  hold  ; 
Virtue  enfetters  when  beauty  is  gone, 
Which  vanishes  oft  twixt  twilight  and  dawn. 
But,  lady,  time  urges ;  I  bow  unto  thee 
And  pray  you  garner  your  beauty  for  me, 

64 


KING   EDGAR 


For  even  the  king  may  yield  to  thy  charm 
And  bring  upon  spouse  the  deadliest  harm. 
Fair  Lily,  recall  the  pearl  on  your  hand 
Was  hitherward  borne  at  monarch's  command; 
And  seeing  thee  fair,  as  fair  as  thou  art, 
May  follow  this  gift  with  gift  of  his  heart. 
If  other  should  woo  —  one  greater  than  I  — 
How  then  would  Lily  of  Devon  reply  ? " 
"I  would  say  to  king,  that  I  am  a  wife, 
Holding  honor  and  name  dearer  than  life. 
Since  danger,  you  deem,  approaches  the  tower 
I'll  hie  me  away  to  rose-hidden  bower, 
And  maidens  may  there  with  murderous  skill 
All  of  my  beauty  most  cruelly  kill." 

XXII 

Lord  Athelwold  waited,  weary  and  worn  — 
Anxiously  waited  the  sound  of  a  horn ; 
He  tarried  not  long  till  seneschal  came 
With  word  to  make  ready  in  sovereign's  name. 
"The  king  is  nearing,  the  bright  retinue 
Is  hardly  a  league  from  Devonshire  view." 
Meanwhile  in  blossoming  rose-burdened  bower 
The  fairest  of  England  was  weeping  that  hour; 
With  her  sweet  maidens  were  mingling  their  tears 
Ere  beautiful  locks  were  slain  by  the  shears. 
They  fondly  caressed  silk  fibers  of  gold 
As  misers  caress  the  treasures  they  hold. 
Anear  came  a  knight,  who  lighted  to  ground, 
Beholding  amazed  such  tresses  unbound. 

6s 


STORY    AND    SONG 


So  sadly  she  wept  he  prayed  her  to  speak 
The  sorrowful  cause  that  showered  her  cheek. 
Lily  of  Devon,  twixt  sobbing  and  sigh, 
To  stranger  betrayed  why  beauty  must  die. 
Reasoned  the  rider:  "Is  beauty  a  curse, 
Ivy  to  banish  or  blossom  to  nurse? 
Surely  your  spouse  should  well  ponder  again 
Ere  banning  for  all  this  fairness  from  men. 
The  king  hath  gold  to  do  as  he  please 
But  where  is  the  mart  for  features  like  these? 
If  priced  a  kingdom,  a  scepter  and  throne, 
He  might  barter  them  all  for  tresses  alone. 
I  pray,  fair  lady,  thy  purpose  give  o'er, 
Destroy  not  blessings  that  none  can  restore. 
Near  am  I  to  king,  who  cometh  the  hour 
To  rest  a  season  in  Devonshire  tower, 
And  pledge  thee  his  faith  by  sainted  above 
He  journeys  alone  on  mission  of  love  — 
Love  holy  and  pure  as  maiden  heart  feels 
Bowed  at  communion,  she  worshiping  kneels. 
I  beg,  I  command,  an  hour  of  time 
Ere  finger  dares  move  to  traitorous  crime." 
He  mounted  his  steed  and  loosing  the  rein 
Rode  swiftly  to  lead  the  sovereign's  train. 
Ere  ever  the  sands  marked  flight  of  an  hour 
Monarch  and  retinue  entered  the  tower. 

XXIII 

Spake  sovereign  to  thane:  u If  heaven  be  just 
How  couldst  thou  destroy  all  traces  of  trust, 

66 


KING    EDGAR 


Trample  on  friendship,  thy  monarch  disdain 

By  touch  unholy  and  longings  profane? 

'Tis  treason  unpardon'd  to  think  of  the  queen, 

And  she  was  sovereign  though  never  yet  seen  ; 

Round  her  the  banner,  the  buckler,  and  sword 

Of  England's  monarch,  thy  masterful  lord." 

Athelwold  answered :  u  My  lips  touched  her  cheek, 

Bringing  me  heaven  that  heareth  me  speak, 

And  swear  the  Lily  of  Devon's  as  pure 

As  when  hither  I  rode  her  hand  to  secure. 

But  if  thinking,  dread  king,  be  treason  vile, 

I  pray  you  prison  the  Lily's  sweet  smile; 

Else  wherever  seen,  or  saddened  or  gay, 

Treason  will  follow  as  certain  as  day. 

But  now  the  Lily's  as  perfect  a  flower 

As  any  abloom  in  paradise  bower. 

Scarce  wedded  were  we  ere  entered  the  hall 

Thy  messenger  warm  with  summoning  call, 

Commanding  that  I  should  saddle  and  ride 

The  instant  I  heard,  whatever  betide. 

One  moment  I  folded  the  Lily  in  arms 

Then  away,  away  from  virginal  charms. 

If  king  deign  enter  a  tourney  with  me 

We'll  wait  decision  whose  spouse  she  will  be. 

By  all  that  I  am,  or  should  be,  I  swear 

She's  never  my  wife  till  so  she  declare. 

St.  Dunstan  is  near  to  swiftly  enforce 

A  judgment  you  hear  decreeing  divorce. 

E'en  this  perchance  is  unneeded  to  shore 

Marriage  of  twain  by  Druidical  lore. 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Again  let  her  choose  the  king  on  the  throne 
Or  knight  who  offers  affection  alone.'" 
Consented  the  king  to  Athelwold's  word, 
And  soon  the  judgment  of  Dunstan  was  heard. 

XXIV 

The  Lily  was  summoned;  tapestried  hall 

Gave  way  as  she  entered,  graceful  and  tall ; 

No  pigment  was  there  her  fairness  to  brown ; 

In  waves  her  tresses  rolled  shiningly  down, 

A  ribbon  of  snow  the  golden  locks  bound 

Looping  a  measure  from  touch  of  the  ground. 

Noblest  of  maidens  and  haughty  dames  proud 

Gave  space  to  vision  that  parted  the  crowd. 

Stately  she  glided  in  garments  of  white 

Nor  glanced  to  the  left  nor  yet  to  the  right, 

Journeyed  straight  onward  toward  monarch  and  thane, 

The  gallants  of  England  forming  a  lane; 

Courageous  in  heart  but  rose-color  failed, 

Seeing  how  Athelwold  suddenly  paled, 

Then  crimsoned  her  face  as  knight  of  the  bower 

Rose  high  o'er  highest,  the  monarch  of  power. 

At  foot  of  the  dais  adaze  with  surprise 

A  minute  she  paused  and  lowered  her  eyes, 

Till  king  held  her  hand  with  courtliest  grace 

And  gallantly  throned  her  next  to  his  place. 

XXV 

"Fair  lady  and  judge,"  the  royal  voice  said 
While  silence  brooded  like  living  were  dead, 

68 


KING   EDGAR 


"  In  fairy-land  kingdom  where  heaven  weds  earth 

There  bloomed  a  flower  of  infinite  worth  : 

Only  one  blossom  like  this  one  abloom, 

With  it  the  king  sought  to  garnish  his  room. 

Fair  flowers  he  knew,  exceedingly  rare, 

But  this  the  fairest  —  surpassingly  fair. 

But  being  weighed  down  by  burdensome  power, 

Unable  himself  to  ride  for  the  flower, 

Sent  servant  instead,  and  calling  him  friend 

Besought  him  that  he  would  faithfulness  lend, 

To  ride  a  journey  till  blossom  so  bright 

Should  burst  on  orbs  as  to  dazzle  their  sight. 

Servant  went  forward  until  he  did  find 

The  beautiful  bloom  the  king  had  in  mind; 

But  scorning  the  crown,  disdainful  of  power, 

He  wickedly  plotted  theft  of  the  flower. 

Impious  fingers  forgetful  of  chief, 

Touched  petal  and  stem  and  marvelous  leaf; 

His  breath  drank  fragrance  belonging  to  king, 

Soon  would  the  flower  have  quit  blossoming. 

These  rumors  ran  rife  to  end  of  the  land, 

And  servant  was  summoned  by  royal  command, 

Then  out  of  base  lips  by  might  of  his  power 

He  wrung  confession  concerning  the  flower. 

Unsatisfied  then;  for  never  again 

Will  he  own  rich  faith  in  friendship  of  men ; 

Breeding  suspicion,  he  hastened  away 

To  ride  to  that  land  as  fast  as  he  may; 

Arriving  aright  at  fairy-land  bower, 

Saw  with  amazement  that  wonderful  flower. 


STORY    AND   SONG 


While  yearning  to  seize  and  save  its  perfume, 

Beauty  and  brightness  to  heighten  his  room, 

He  doffs  a  season  majestical  power, 

Yielding  a  throne  to  that  beautiful  flower. 

Fearing  the  blossom  might  wither  and  die 

If  secret  longing  the  king  should  defy — 

Though  rightfully  his,  all  rights  he  resigns 

To  ask  the  blossom  which  way  it  inclines, 

And  vows  by  the  cup  Sir  Galahad  saw 

To  sanction  its  choice  by  might  of  the  law. 

Ere  blossom  shall  aught  of  decision  declare, 

The  king  would  secret  most  willingly  share. 

Through  marches  of  days  and  midnight's  lone  hours, 

In  visions  he  saw  this  fairest  of  flowers ; 

The  visions  confirmed  by  rumors  that  came 

To  dower  the  flower  with  bower  and  name, 

Since  monarch  has  come  and  monarch  has  seen 

Would  make  of  blossom  a  spouse  and  a  queen. 

He  loved  it  afar,  and  now  it  is  near 

In  flood-tides  of  love  'tis  treble  as  dear. 

Thus  quitting  the  throne,  and  bowing  him  down, 

He  offers  this  blossom  love  and  a  crown." 

XXVI 

The  monarch  bent  low,  and  Athelwold  knelt, 
Not  lifting  sad  eyes  for  glances  he  felt, 
Spake  never  a  word,  excuse  he  had  none 
Save  love  led  onward  to  all  he  had  done. 
She  paused  some  moments,  full  deeply  her  sigh, 
While  tears  fell  waiting  a  husband's  reply; 

70 


KING    EDGAR 


She  knew  Love  was  blind,  alas !  was  he  dumb, 

Or  did  danger  appall  and  silence  the  tongue  ? 

"  O  Sovereign  of  State,"  breathed  Devon  at  last, 

"  The  days  of  my  wooing  forever  are  past, 

For  I  am  a  wife,  my  husband  kneels  there 

Whose  woe  and  welfare  I'm  plighted  to  share/' 

Said  monarch  with  frown:  "Two  lovers  kneel  down, 

Choose  thou  the  vassal  or  monarch  with  crown. 

Thine  husband  that  was  hath  put  to  the  test 

The  claim  that  Devon  still  loveth  him  best; 

Hath  sworn  by  himself  thy  choice  to  abide 

Ere  ever  again  he  claims  thee  as  bride." 

Ah,  then,  did  Lily  of  Devon  divine 

Why  husband  forebore  a  word  or  a  sign; 

Facing  a  monarch  he  may  not  defy 

Though  ready  and  willing  in  battle  to  die. 

Love  tugged  at  her  heart  but  him  she  resigned 

To  follow  the  path  to  safety  inclined; 

She  sacrificed  life  to  ransome  a  life 

By  yielding  herself  to  the  monarch  as  wife. 

Then  Devon  began :  "  Be  it  evermore  known 

I  loved  him,  O  king,  more  than  scepter  and  throne. 

But  thou  art  monarch,  by  Monarch  above 

Sent  hither  to  rule  our  life  and  our  love. 

To  my  sovereign  I  yield:   let  memory  keep 

Love's  fragrance  till  death  shall  woo  me  to  sleep. 

All,  all  that  I  am  to  thee  I  resign, 

And  pray  thee  sweet  mercy  for  him  that  was  mine. 

May  it  never  be  said  Edgar  did  bring 

Vengeance  on  him  who  dared  rival  the  king. 


STORY   AND    SONG 


As  God  hath  kept  me  in  virtue  serene 
So  shall  I  be  faithful  as  wife  and  a  queen." 
She  raised  the  monarch  by  sign  of  command 
And  gave  to  his  own  her  lily-hued  hand. 


72 


EPILOGUE 


EPILOGUE 

Again  sweet  Spring  has  whispered 

To  blossoms  underground, 
Again  the  buds  are  bursting 

With  mystery  profound: 
A  woman  stands  a-weeping 

Enwrapt  in  growing  gloom, 
And  drops  a  sheaf  of  lilies 

Upon  a  lowly  tomb. 

Her  stature  fair  and  stately, 

Her  roses  rich  and  rare, 
But  crowning  all  her  beauty 

Is  the  glory  of  her  hair. 
She  singly  drops  the  blossoms 

And  with  each  bloom  a  tear 
For  him  who  died  at  Devon, 

While  royal  pair  was  near. 

In  vain  a  monarch's  mercy 

Gave  pledge  to  queenly  wife, 
In  vain  the  tears  of  Devon 

To  call  him  back  to  life. 
While  golden  orb  was  sinking 

His  spirit  sadly  fled, 
The  very  day  the  Lily 

The  peaceful  monarch  wed. 

73 


STORY   AND   SONG 


Not  all  the  glare  and  glitter 

Encompassing  a  throne. 
Can  woo  away  the  hunger 

Of  human  heart  alone; 
And  queen  may  be  as  lonely 

As  any  widowed  dove, 
And  mourn  herself  a  widow 

By  the  sepulcher  of  love. 


74 


THE    CENTURY 


THE    CENTURY 

Read  before    the   Progress   Circle  New  Years   Eve, 

1900. 

Open  your  ponderous  portals,  O  Time  ! 
Oh,  open  your  gates  to  a  cycle  sublime  — 
Open  them  swiftly,  for  the  races  of  men 
Are  awaiting  thy  signal  ere  marching  again. 
Legions  are  pausing  'twixt  the  old  and  the  new, 
While  the  pageant  of  years  sweeps  by  in  review. 
A  century  past,  and  the  babe  of  that  day 
Is  drowsily  dreaming  the  moments  away ; 
He  awakens  in  youth  pondering  a  dream 
Of  the  marvelous  light  beginning  to  gleam  : 
In  manhood,  a  .giant,  with  sinewy  brawn 
To  wrestle  Dame  Nature  till  coming  of  dawn ; 
All  night  is  the  battle;  when  darkness  is  past, 
The  Dame  gives  her  scion  a  blessing  at  last. 
Now  wrinkled  and  grizzled,  a  hundred  years  old, 
He  totters  and  halts,  while  his  triumphs  are  told ; 
Smiles  proudly  and  cries,  as  a  conqueror  ought : 
u  Behold,  O  my  children,  the  wonders  I  wrought  ! 
My  creatures  belch  fire  through  the  watches  of  night, 
And  carry  you  swift  as  an  eagle  in  flight ; 
I  have  shrunken  the  earth  till  oceans  are  lakes ; 
I  catch  every  cry  that  humanity  makes ; 
Over  mountainous  heights  and  under  the  sea 
Run  nerves  of  the  world  till  they  center  in  me; 

75 


STORY   AND   SONG 


A  touch  of  the  wire  and  I  banish  the  gloom; 

I  hear  voices  afar  as  if  in  the  room, 

And  even  my  dead,  as  they  sleep  in  the  tomb, 

Still  speak  to  the  quick  as  though  buried  too  soon  : 

Through  wireless  air  mystic  messages  come  ; 

In  depths  of  the  deep  my  leviathans  run ; 

Vast  islands  I  formed  of  a  continent  grand, 

And  the  seas  went  marrying  at  my  command ; 

On  the  shoreless,  the  treacherous  air  I  float 

And  laugh  at  the  wind  waves  that  threaten  my  boat. 

With  the  lightning  my  thrall  three  kingdoms  I  own: 

Earth  and  water  and  air  acknowledge  my  throne. 

I  have  pictured  the  heart  still  throbbing  with  pain, 

But  the  soul — ah,  the  soul !  —  I'  ve  hunted  in  vain, 

I  have  mastered  the  cipher  graven  on  stone 

By  the  ringer  of  God,  and  humbly  I  own 

I  plumb  with  amazement  the  deeps  of  His  plan 

In  launching  the  earth  as  a  vessel  for  man, 

Enladening  her  deeply  with  iron  and  coal, 

Seaming  the  mountains  with  His  silver  and  gold, 

Fringing  the  rivers  with  the  whispering  wood, 

And  sowing  the  valley  with  spices  and  food, 

O'er-spreading  our  room  with  a  magical  loom 

And  tinting  the  pattern  with  beauty  of  bloom, 

Then  placing  His  children  abroad  in  their  prime, 

They  start  on  a  voyage  supremely  sublime  : 

On  etherial  sea,  afloat  in  a  ship 

And  sailing  a  marvelous,  measureless  trip, 

With  a  meteor's  speed  'twixt  Venus  and  Mars, 

Earth  runneth  a  race  on  the  track  of  the  stars. 


THE    CENTURY 


"  Small  wonder  that  he  who  hath  conquered  this  ball, 
Who  hath  reached  to  the  stars  and  measured  them  all, 
Who  hath  creatures  to  sing,  to  speak  and  to  nod, 
Claims  kinship  anear  to  the  infinite  God! 

"  But  I  humble  myself  when  weighing  the  crime  — 
Oh  the  sorrow  and  shame  that  men  say  are  mine, 
And  the  lowly  and  poor,  who  starving  and  cold, 
See  the  coffers  of  wealth,  o'erflowing  with  gold; 
And  I  sigh  with  remorse  as  memory  shows 
That  I  am  a  century  cycle  of  woes. 
The  war  drums  still  throbbing  and  murder  again, 
Is  redd'ning  the  earth  with  the  blood  of  the  slain ; 
I  tremble  to  think  that  the  Father  above 
Hath  never  repealed  His  commandment  to  love ; 
And  marvel  to  know  the  foremost  in  worth 
Are  foremost  in  slaying  their  brothers  of  earth." 

Thus  speaketh  the  century  dying  to-night, 
So  boastful  yet  humble,  so  wrongful  yet  right. 
The  mightiest  wizard  of  centuries  eld, 
The  wisest  magician  Time  ever  beheld ; 
Yet  we  who  are  watching  his  ultimate  breath 
Feel  neither  a  pang  nor  regret  at  his  death. 
We  are  glad  the  past  will  be  buried  at  last, 
Though  mighty  the  drama  and  splendid  the  cast. 
We  are  children  of  light,  and,  facing  the  dawn, 
Are  waiting  the  word  to  march  onward  and  on, 
Faithfully  trusting  there  are  triumphs  in  store 
Greater  and  grander  than  this  century  bore. 

77 


STORY    AND   SONG 


Neither  prophet  am  I,  nor  even  the  son 
Of  prophetical  sire ;  yet  over  me  come 
Fair  visions  of  brightness  that  shine  as  the  sun, 
Engilding  earth's  shadows  with  magical  beam, 
And  painting  the  future  a  rose-colored  dream. 
So  happy  are  people  that  praises  of  men 
Discourage  all  language  and  baffle  my  pen. 
Words  !  words  are  as  ashes  disguising  a  fire, 
Or  clothing  a  goddess  in  beggar's  attire. 
But  joyous  the  planet  with  joys  from  above, 
For  the  Spirit  of  Good  broods  earth  as  a  dove  ; 
War's  music  is  ended  ;  the  music  of  praise 
Now  lightens  and  sweetens  the  labor  of  days  ! 
Gaunt  famine  has  vanished  ;  no  more  is  it  said 
The  children  beg  vainly  a  mother  for  bread ; 
There's  daily  a  banquet  to  ends  of  the  earth, 
Where  the  highest  give  place  to  the  lowly  of  birth  ; 
The  poorest  are  rich,  and  the  richest  content, 
When  labor  and  harvest  are  equally  sent. 
God's  velvety  tapestry,  woven  for  earth, 
Grows  fairer  with  flowers  of  infinite  worth  — 
There  the  children  who  delved  are  joyously  heard 
To  rival  the  music  of  caroling  bird. 
No  doorways  are  barred,  no  one  seeketh  by  stealth, 
For  each  hath  enough,  and  enough  meaneth  wealth. 
Fair  cities  are  rising,  surpassingly  grand  ; 
Neither  palace  nor  hut  is  marring  the  land  ; 
No  hungry  nor  homeless  is  thronging  the  street, 
No  maiden  is  sold  for  a  morsel  to  eat ; 


THE    CENTURY 


Hearts  harder  than  iron  were  melted  and  ran 
To  succor  the  vestal  and  sorrowful  man ; 
Harsh  Levite  and  prelate  departed,  and  then 
A  nation  was  born  of  Samaritan  men. 
Diseases  are  passing,  for  worry  and  dread 
Are  harvesters  fierce  in  the  field  of  the  dead ; 
Even  death  is  delayed  ;  an  angel  of  bliss 
He  cometh  when  age  is  aweary  of  this; 
And  lifts  in  his  arms  and  soothes  with  his  hand, 
And  gently  transports  to  a  neighboring  land. 
Dame  Nature  is  harnessed  now,  willing  to  yield, 
As  the  drudge  of  the  shop,  the  household  and  field 
Skillful  creatures  man-made  are  tilling  the  sod, 
While  genie  of  all  is  co-worker  with  God, 
In  highest  of  wisdom  is  tracing  his  plan 
In  making  this  planet  a  heaven  for  man. 

Think  ye  a  century  is  too  brief  a  time 

For  man  to  enjoy  such  a  vision  sublime  ? 

Must  the  race  still  plod  on  through  error  and  tears 

And  suffer  in  shame  for  unlimited  years  ? 

I  say  to  you  :   Nay ;  we  are  garnering  power, 

Like  a  century  plant  that  blooms  in  an  hour, 

Or  as  comets  out  of  the  infinite  run, 

For  eons  of  ages,  approaching  the  sun, 

When  nearing  God's  taper  their  marvelous  flight 

Grows  swifter  and  swifter,  till  speeding  like  light, 

After  rounding  their  goal  they  measure  their  pace 

Like  charger  that  cools,  after  winning  a  race. 


79 


STORY   AND   SONG 


For  numberless  years,  out  of  folly  and  crime 
Humanity's  race  has  been  learning  to  climb ; 
So  painful  its  progress,  so  slothful  at  first, 
Now  faster  and  faster,  as  greater  the  thirst 
For  wisdom  that  serves ;  we  are  rounding  the  goal 
To  brotherhood  vast  of  which  God  is  the  soul. 
Our  mother  is  rich ;  't  is  the  fault  of  some  child 
Who  is  cruel,  relentless,  savage  and  wild ; 
'Tis  he  who  has  minted  the  hearts  and  the  tears 
Of  lowlier  brothers  through  measureless  years ; 
Persuade  him  to  justice,  the  world  stands  redeemed, 
And  ready  for  visions  a  dreamer  hath  dreamed. 
Now  open,  O  Time,  your  double-leaved  gate — 
Oh,  hasten,  your  children  impatiently  wait — 
Let  enter  the  light  and  fair  wisdom  sublime, 
Turn  backward  avarice,  passion  and  crime; 
Inviting  sweet  peace  and  bright  progress  within, 
Bar  forever  the  wars,  diseases  and  sin  ; 
Forbidding  the  wrongful  with  falsehood's  foul  stain, 
Crown  Honor  and  Right  fair  sovereigns  to  reign. 

The  hammer  is  trembling,  so  eager  to  fall ! 
When  earth  shall  fly  on  like  swift  cannon-ball; 
No  moment  is  wanting  :  now  cometh  the  morn. 
Harken  !  behold  ye!  the  Century's  born. 


80 


CALIFORNIA'S    GREETING 


CALIFORNIA'S    GREETING   AT   THE 
WORLD'S    FAIR 

From  home  beside  Balboa's  sea 

I  bring  sweet  greetings,  sisters  fair, 

And  prayers  that  ye  will  pardon  me, 
If  I  your  honors  seek  to  share. 

Columbia  brave,  thy  daughters  all 
Are  sovereigns,  yet  to  thee  we  bow, 

And  ask  that  as  a  blessing  fall 

This  golden  chaplet  on  thy  brow. 

And  other  rulers  of  the  world 

Are  sending  here  a  countless  fleet, 

With  every  royal  flag  unfurled 

To  pour  earth's  treasures  at  thy  feet. 

With  one  accord  and  modest  worth, 
With  warmest  heart  and  open  hand, 

We  bid  the  nations  of  the  earth 

Thrice  welcome  to  our  favored  land. 

Let  every  island  of  the  sea, 

Let  every  land  beneath  the  sun, 

Hear  welcome  now  as  full  and  free 
As  rendered  since  the  world  begun. 

Bring  all  the  garnered  fruits  of  toil, 
Bear  hither  all  you  treasure  most : 
81 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Old  Father  Time,  I  bid  you  spoil 

Of  everything  that  makes  him  boast. 


I  know  the  worth  of  young  and  old 
In  this  fair  sisterhood  of  state, 

Yet  pray  you  deem  me  none  too  bold 
If  I  my  partial  claims  relate. 

I  pledge  you  in  this  golden  cup — 

A  gift  from  one  of  countless  mines — 

And  quaff  a  nectar  gods  might  sup, 
The  earnest  of  unnumbered  vines. 

Broad  fields  of  wheat  and  orchard  deep 
Extend  o'er  valley,  hill  and  plain ; 

While  orange  bloom  with  sweet  perfume 
Makes  zephyrs  sigh  to  come  again. 

I  cannot  paint  my  gorgeous  skies, 

Nor  trace  the  constant  glow  and  gleam, 

Where  Nature  revels  and  defies 
The  painter  in  his  wildest  dream. 

Yosemite  !   supremely  grand, 

Thy  poet  true  is  yet  unborn 
To  picture  with  a  master  hand 

Thy  glories  on  a  vernal  morn. 

For  mortals  stand  in  wondering  awe 
And  know  all  living  tongues  must  fail 
82 


CALIFORNIA'S    GREETING 

If,  madness  lured,  they  seek  to  draw 
The  peerless  falls  of  Bridal  Veil. 

Where  granite  mountains  upward  creep 
Till,  Babel  built,  they  touch  the  sky; 

And  waters  sweep  in  mighty  leap 
To  Mirror  Lake,  there  calmly  lie. 

This  jewel  gleaming  on  my  breast, 

Encircled  by  a  rim  of  snow 
Asleep  on  giant  mountain  crest, 

Reflects  the  charms  of  Lake  Tahoe. 

Mt.  Wilson's  brow  is  wreathed  with  snow, 
His  foot  is  shod  in  olive  green, 

While  mimic  snow  of  orange  blow 
Crowns  every  vale  and  valley  seen. 

Your  sun  is  hidden  by  the  west, 
Mine  lingers  o'er  the  Golden  Gate 

To  kiss  the  maids  he  loveth  best 
While  other  lands  his  beams  await. 


I  crave  your  pardon  if  you  think 
I  speak  with  boldness  nearly  rude, 

And  seek  to  show  you  many  a  link 
That  drew  me  to  your  sisterhood. 

For  centuries  asleep  I  lay, 

And  seemed  but  only  half  awake, 

83 


STORY    AND    SONG 


When  near  my  San  Francisco  Bay 
I  heard  the  guns  of  Francis  Drake. 

Soon  after,  when  the  Fathers  came 

And  taught  my  wayward  children  well, 

I  could  not  all  my  senses  claim 

But  in  a  dreamland  seemed  to  dwell. 

For  such  the  peaceful  life  they  led 

With  flocks  and  herds  on  plain  and  hill, 

I  did  not  rouse  me  from  my  bed 

Nor  feel  my  senses  throb  and  thrill. 

Then  rumor  ran  of  coming  strife, 
My  heart  became  a  warmer  font, 

And  I  arose  to  stranger  life 

To  clasp  the  hand  of  brave  Fremont. 

A  grander  stride  of  joy  and  pain 

I  marched  when  in  my  mountains  old, 

As  yellow  veins  were  rent  in  twain 
Ran  freely  with  my  virgin  gold. 

Deep  in  my  rocky  vaults  I  kept 
The  treasures  that  in  later  years 

Enriched  the  world  as  o'er  me  crept 
The  brave  and  hardy  pioneers. 

I  pray  you  just  a  moment  stay, 

And  sweep  from  mem'ry  all  the  rest, 

For  all  I  have  must  homage  pay 
To  Native  Daughters  of  the  West. 

84 


CALIFORNIA'S    GREETING 

These  peerless  prizes  of  my  State 
Unrivaled  rank  where  waters  run; 

And  each  will  hardly  find  a  mate 
Save  mated  to  a  Native  Son. 


Consider,  too,  the  bounds  I  own 

To  make  me  proud  among  the  great — 

While  riches  hitherto  unknown 

Have  christened  me  the  Golden  State. 

Bold  Shasta  lifts  his  ponderous  shield 
Along  my  northern  line  to  guard, 

While  eastward  as  on  battle  field 
Nevada's  giants  watch  and  ward. 

A  canyon  vast,  a  desert  wide 

Keep  well  my  southern  boundary, 

And  Neptune  with  his  grandest  tide 
To  westward  boweth  down  to  me. 

A  million  million  pennant  pine 

Rise  armed  a  lance  from  out  the  sod, 

To  keep  these  virgin  charms  of  mine 
For  men  who  only  feared  their  God. 


I  own  no  wish  your  sight  to  blind 
With  jewels  rare  and  golden  fruit; 

I  value  these,  yet  bear  in  mind 

My  proudest  triumphs  are  of  truth. 

85 


STORY    AND    SONG 


The  torch  Prometheus  lit  on  high, 

Here  brightly  beams  on  mountain  peak, 

As  Barnard  meets  the  starry  sky 
In  merry  game  of  hide-and-seek. 

His  stellar  friends  he  names  by  name, 
And  with  his  powers  yet  abloom 

Has  won  himself  a  mighty  fame 
By  finding  Jove  a  hidden  moon. 

I  shall  not  try  your  patience  kind 
Recounting  all  the  wealth  I  hold  — 

Come,  come  to  me  and  you  will  find 
One-half  my  charms  are  still  untold. 

O  voice  of  river,  rill  and  lake ! 

Join  in  the  anthem  of  the  sea 
And  every  sound  in  nature  wake 

To  chant  thy  praise  Oh  Liberty ! 


86 


TO    MY   MOTHER 


TO  MY  MOTHER— HER  JJTH  BIRTHDAY 

They  say  another  year  has  fled 

And  you  should  seem  some  older, 
More  white  upon  your  honored  head 

Your  pulse  a  trifle  colder. 
They  claim  that  Father  Time  should  set 

Some  hieroglyphic  letter, 
And  spell  with  his  quaint  alphabet 

The  years  that  you  are  debtor. 

But  as  we  search  your  gracious  face 

No  recent  lines  are  graven, 
No  needless  snow  has  come  to  grace 

The  locks  that  still  are  raven. 
Your  step  is  like  a  woman's  prime, 

Your  laugh  as  light  as  ever, 
Have  you  then  made  a  league  with  Time 

To  be  your  friend  forever? 

Has  he  whose  touch  brings  frequent  grief, 

Whose  signs  foretell  a  sorrow, 
Agreed  to  grant  you  sweet  relief 

On  each  returning  morrow? 
Whate're  the  secret  of  thy  youth 

Our  gladness  we  are  voicing  — 
These  lines  but  echo  back  the  truth 

Of  hearts  that  throb  rejoicing. 

87 


STORY    AND    SONG 


But  we  believe  the  kindness  shown 

To  children  and  to  neighbor 
Has  now  a  golden  harvest  grown 

Of  blessings  for  your  labor. 
Your  tender  charity  and  love 

To  mortals  freely  given 
Have  fruited  as  a  tree  above 

In  joys  akin  to  heaven. 

For  what  we  sow  we  also  reap, 

Both  here  and  the  hereafter, 
And  you,  while  many  sow  to  weep, 

Have  sown  for  love  and  laughter, 
You  scattered  seeds  of  joy  for  all 

And  knew  not  you  were  sowing, 
But  One,  who  notes  a  sparrow's  fall, 

Has  watched  your  harvest  growing. 

'Tis  this  that  kept  the  raven  hue 

While  younger  locks  grew  whiter, 
And  brought  a  bounding  pulse  to  you 

And  made  your  eyes  the  brighter. 
'Tis  this  that  kept  your  heart  so  light; 

For  life  is  like  a  mirror 
That  sendeth  smiles  for  smiling  bright, 

And  love  for  loving  dearer. 

For  ever  thus  the  living  thought 
Weaves  faces  fair  or  homely — 

They're  sweet  if  we  have  rightly  wrought 
And  sad  if  we  are  lonely. 
88 


TO   MY    MOTHER 


And  though  the  cloudlets  now  and  then 
Robbed  hours  of  joy  and  gladness ; 

The  sun  arose,  and  you  again 
Felt  just  a  touch  of  sadness. 

And  now,  O  Time,  as  on  you  run 

Be  constant  in  your  giving 
Sweet  smiles  unto  our  loving  one 

And  keep  her  with  the  living. 
For  this  your  children  pray  for  you 

And  while  we  kneel  confessing, 
That  underneath  the  arching  blue 

Thou  art  our  greatest  blessing. 

A  benizen  from  heaven  above 

For  which  deep  thanks  are  owing, 
To  lead  us  on  by  deeds  of  love 

The  way  that  thou  art  going; 
To  ever  lead  till  we  are  through 

With  earth  and  all  its  favors, 
And  joined  again  in  heaven  with  you 

Surrounded  by  your  neighbors. 


STORY    AND    SONG 


THE  BEHYMER  LIBRARY 

Heaven  bless  the  man  who  rears  the  family  dome; 
Heaven  bless  the  wife  whose  virtues  make  it  home; 
May  blessings  fall  again  when  by  their  care 
A  world  of  wisdom  hath  assembled  there. 
Behold  famed  poets,  bards  of  every  age, 
The  work  of  genius  bright' ning  many  a  page, 
And  brave  romance,  the  drama  grave  and  gay 
In  order  stand  their  treasure  to  display. 
These  are  the  rulers  of  a  changeful  world; 
Great  kings  are  nameless  dust,  their  empires  hurled 
Into  oblivion;  but  Homer  blind 
Still  leads ;  great  Plato,  monarch  of  the  mind, 
Is  reigning  king,  his  barefoot  teacher's  word 
Searching  for  truth  around  the  sphere  is  heard. 
Here  Fancy  lures  us  through  the  fairest  field 
To  see  King  Arthur  armed  with  lance  and  shield; 
Hear  his  weapon  clang,  sense  the  rocking  ground 
The  rush  of  steeds  and  watch  the  victor  crowned, 
Another  scene — sweet  Freedom  marches  on 
With  bleeding  feet  from  bloody  Marathon. 
Then  hosts  of  martyrs  crowding  swiftly  by 
We  close  our  eyes  lest  we  behold  them  die. 
Oh,  babbling  books !  oh,  volumes  deep  profound ! 
Ye  prove  the  world  is  naught  but  hallowed  ground 
Filled  with  the  ashes  of  the  mighty  past 
That  died  to  save  us  from  the  grave  at  last. 
Eternal  spirits  here  ye  still  abide 
To  aid,  to  comfort  and  our  lives  to  guide. 

90 


KOKINA 


KOKINA 

Kokina,  the  fair,  was  a  maiden 
Dwelling  by  the  Yellow  Sea, 

Where  breezes  with  whispers  were  laden 
Foretelling  of  trials  to  be. 

So  plaintive  they  carried  the  warning 

Resembling  a  siren's  song, 
Enchanting  the  heart  in  the  morning, 

Luring  the  bold  and  the  strong. 

Adown  in  the  cradle  of  ocean 

Sailors  are  lying  asleep, 
Bereft  of  all  life  and  emotion, 

Lured  to  a  tomb  in  the  deep. 

So  ever  the  zephyrs  were  bringing 

Warning  Kokina,  the  fair  : 
"  When  the  sea-god  cometh  a-singing 

O  Kooshi  maiden,  beware." 

But  Kokina  laughed  at  the  warnings, 

Fearless  forever,  the  vain, 
And  answered  the  breezes  with  scornings 

Welcomed  the  god  of  the  main. 

Kokina  was  pure  as  a  flower, 
Fair  as  a  goddess  above, 


STORY   AND    SONG 


But  proud  of  her  beauty  and  power — 
Thinking  the  god  was  in  love. 

But  mortals  should  ever  remember — 
Maidens  though  jewels  of  worth, 

To  the  sea-god  seeming  so  tender 
Are  objects  only  of  mirth. 

His  love  is  so  icy  and  chilling, 
Killing  while  clasping  to  hold, 

Deceiving  all  maids  who  are  willing 
With  tales  of  palace  of  gold. 

Kokina  was  wooed  by  a  lover, 

Baron  of  noble  estate, 
Though  ranking  in  name  above  her 

Yet  sought  the  maiden  as  mate. 

But  waving  aside  his  advances  — 
Facing  the  deluge  of  brine  — 

She  answered  with  ravishing  glances: 
"Old  Ocean's  a  rival  of  thine. 

"I  tossed  to  the  billows  a  jewel  — 
An  opal  with  golden  rim  — 

Now  Ocean  so  charmingly  cruel 
Vows  I  am  plighted  to  him. 

"And  ever  the  breezes  are  bringing, 

Winging  a  message  to  me, 
Are  swaying  and  chanting  and  singing : 

4  Thou  art  the  bride  of  the  sea/ 
92 


KOKINA 


"And  answering  back  to  old  Ocean 

Whispering  lips  as  I  nod  : 
'  O  never  doubt  maiden's  devotion, 

When  one  is  wooed  by  a  god.'  " 

Her  lover,  overwhelmed  by  the  terror, 
Prayed  to  Kokina  to  flee  — 

Foretelling  how  fatal  the  error 
Plighting  herself  to  the  sea. 

"  Kokina,  beware  the  immortal, 

Blasting  the  soul  with  his  breath  — 

His  touches  but  open  the  portal 
Leading  to  regions  of  death." 

She  smiled  at  forebodings,  replying : 
"  When  I  give  over  this  life, 

If  thou  art  no  coward  at  dying 
We  '11  die  as  husband  and  wife. 

"  Prepare  then  to  follow  me  ever 
E'en  down  to  caverns  of  sea — 

The  monarch  shall  sever  us  never, 
If  thou  my  husband  will  be. 

u  The  moon  waxes  full  on  the  morrow- 
When  silvering  earth  again, 

I'll  wed  thee  for  joy  and  for  sorrow — 
Jilting  the  god  of  the  main." 

Kokina  was  wed  in  the  ev'ning 
In  garments  hue  of  the  sky  — 

93 


STORY    AND    SONG 


Her  lover  stood  by  half  believing 
His  time  was  nearing  to  die. 

The  guests  had  departed,  and  weary 

Kokina  happy  and  blest, 
With  a  husband  loving  her  dearly 

Sank  to  an  innocent  rest. 

But  scarcely  an  hour  of  slumber, 

Ere  hearing  the  ocean's  boom, 
A  roaring  like  billows  of  thunder, 

Rousing  the  bride  and  the  groom. 

The  castle  was  mightily  shaken, 

And  unprotected  the  twain 
Stood  facing,  by  mortals  forsaken, 

The  cruel  god  of  the  main. 

He  towered  aloft  to  the  ceiling 

As  if  disdaining  the  sod, 
While  lightnings  played  round  him,  revealing 

The  frowning  face  of  the  god. 

And  out  of  the  darkness  amazing 

The  wedded  beheld  the  ring, 
With  the  opal  evilly  blazing 

Gilding  the  hand  of  the  king. 

A  voice  that  was  far  more  appalling 

Than  even  the  angry  tide 
Came  out  of  the  blackness;  a-calling: 

"Kokina,  Kooshi,  my  bride!" 

94 


KOKINA 


The  wail  of  that  wonderful  singing, 

Seeming  a  soul  sorely  tried, 
Rang  eerily,  mournfully  bringing : 

"Kokina,  Kooshi,  my  bride!" 

And  the  husband,  bravest  in  danger, 

Grasping  his  magical  brand 
And  launching  a  blow  at  the  stranger, 

Shattered  the  blade  in  his  hand. 

That  weapon  whose  fame  was  repeated 

Raised  never  aloft  in  vain; 
Now,  baffled  and  broken,  defeated 

Aimed  at  the  god  of  the  main. 

Her  husband  then  lovingly  kneeling, 

Besought  her  never  to  part, 
But  she,  through  enchantment,  unfeeling 

Heard  not  the  throbs  of  his  heart. 

And  out  where  the  moonlight  was  gleaming 
Blindly  she  passed  with  the  god; 

While  hoping  the  waking  was  dreaming 
He  followed  whither  they  trod. 

Disdaining  the  sea-god's  displeasure  — 
He  shadowed  them  down  to  the  tide, 

Spell-bound  by  that  marvelous  measure, 
"Kokina,  Kooshi,  my  bride!" 

All  golden  the  barge  on  the  billow — 
Kokina  wafted  aboard, 

95 


STORY  AND    SONG 


Rests  fair  on  the  god  as  a  pillow, 
Crying  farewell  to  her  lord. 

"  Go  back  !  O  my  husband,  my  lover, 

Farewell  !  be  glad  if  you  can  ; 
The  waters  I  know  will  soon  cover 

The  fairest  maid  of  Japan. 

"Believe  me,  my  heart  is  rebelling, 
Mourning  my  husband  and  pride, 

But  Ocean  my  will  is  compelling, 
Chanting:  'O  Kooshi,  my  bride*" 

He  followed  with  every  endeavor 

To  rescue  his  bride  so  brave, 
Till  billows  closed  over  forever  — 

Buried  him  under  the  wave. 

Three  days  and  three  nights  there  came  ringing, 

Winging  along  with  the  tide, 
Sad  voices  so  mournfully  singing: 

u  Kokina,  Kooshi,  my  bride  ! 

"  Kokina,  Kooshi,  my  bride !  " 


96 


WANDERINGS    OF  ULYSSES 


RECENT  WANDERINGS  OF    ULYSSES 

Progress  Circle,  New  Year's  Eve,  1901. 

The  hour  was  late  and  strange  the  fate 
That  found  me  at  my  labors ; 

Though  little  done  since  rise  of  sun 
I  courted  Wisdom's  favors. 

Mid  volumes  bound  of  lore  profound 

I  caught  myself  a-dozing, 
And  strove  to  keep  from  balmy  sleep 

Yet  knew  mine  eyes  were  closing. 

With  mind  perplexed  and  vainly  vexed 

Twixt  history  and  fable, 
I  sought  to  rout  full  many  a  doubt 

Of  Homer,  yet  unable. 

Thus  wearied  o'er  with  ancient  lore 
Expressed  in  flowing  numbers, 

I  took  a  sup  from  Morpheus'  cup 
And  soon  was  wrapt  in  slumbers. 

How  long  I  slept  of  sense  bereft 

I  never  could  remember  — 
When  slumber  broke  and  I  awoke 

The  fire  was  but  an  ember. 

The  lamp,  once  trim,  was  dark  and  dim — 
My  spouse  was  sweetly  snoring  j 

97 


STORY   AND    SONG 


While  in  the  room  the  gypsy  moon 
Broad  beams  was  brightly  pouring. 

What  wakened  me  to  reverie 

Will  ever  be  a  wonder; 
It  seemed  a  knock  and  then  a  shock 

And  then  a  peal  of  thunder. 

From  roof  to  floor  a  sullen  roar, 

Like  men  in  arms  embattled, 
As  I  forbore  to  ope  the  door 

The  windows  loudly  rattled. 

While  reason  wakes  the  dwelling  shakes 

From  outer  walls  to  center, 
And  ere  my  wondering  silence  breaks 

I  saw  a  being  enter. 

No  footfall  echoed  from  the  floor, 

And  though  I  scented  danger 
I  summoned  courage  felt  before 

And  boldly  faced  the  stranger. 

Before  my  sight  a  giant's  height, 

A  beamy  breadth  of  shoulders, 
A  sinewy  arm  to  threaten  harm 

And  terrify  beholders. 

The  cheeks  were  scarred,  their  beauty  marred, 

One  hand  did  lack  a  finger; 
His  scars  and  bars  proclaimed  the  wars 

Where  Progress  loved  to  linger. 
98 


WANDERINGS    OF    ULYSSES 

Around  his  frame  a  tunic  came, 

A  cloak  of  antique  pattern, 
Where,  woven  fine,  were  forms  divine — 

Minerva,  Jove  and  Saturn. 

And  one  could  trace  within  the  face 

A  bold  and  manly  spirit, 
A  wisdom  writ,  the  keenest  wit 

With  irony  a-near  it. 

Though  slow  I  am  since  I  began, 

It  needed  not  a  minute 
To  read  the  grace,  the  garb,  the  face 

And  note  the  wisdom  in  it. 

With  conqu'ring  will  my  fears  grew  still, 
Then  in  a  voice  compelling: 

"  How  dare  you,  sir,"  I  loudly  shrill, 
"To  thus  invade  my  dwelling?" 

He  courtly  bent  his  stately  head 
Like  knight  of  star  and  garter, 

Then  in  a  voice  majestic  said  : 
"I  found  your  door  ajar,  sir. 

"And  after  knocking  loud  and  long 

And  never  seeing  mortal, 
I  shook  the  brazen  handle  strong 

When  open  flew  the  portal. 

"  And  as  my  time  was  rather  brief 
To  pay  a  friendly  visit, 

99 


STORY    AND    SONG 


I  own  I  entered  like  a  thief 
With  step  that  seemed  illicit. 

"And  here  I  find  you  nodding  o'er 
These  tomes  upon  the  table, 

And  offer  you  uncommon  lore 
To  solve  you  myth  and  fable." 

Said  I:  "You  entered  as  you  chose — 

Sine  an  invitation ; 
I  pardon  this  if  you  disclose 

Your  nation,  name,  and  station." 

His  features  shone :  "  One  word  alone 

All  ignorance  dismisses. 
"Behold!"  he  cried  in  kingly  tone, 

"I  am  the  sage  Ulysses." 

I  marveled  much,  I  marvel  more 
Since  now  the  scene  is  over, 

That  I  should  see  within  my  door 
This  great  and  mighty  rover. 

And  queries  fast  came  surging  past 
Beyond  all  words  and  phrases, 

Of  Hector  brave  and  Nestor  grave 
And  proud  Achilles'  praises. 

And  since  he  sat  beneath  my  dome 

It  seemed  a  pleasing  duty, 
To  listen  to  his  journey  home  — 

But  first  of  Helen's  beauty. 
100 


WANDERINGS    OF    ULYSSES 

I  prayed  him  then  reveal  again 
How  Helen  seemed  so  peerless, 

To  send  a  hundred  thousand  men 
To  battle  Trojans  fearless. 

"Was  her's  the  fairest  form  of  earth 

Without  the  least  restriction, 
Or  was  her  beauty,  like  her  worth, 

A  bit  of  Homer's  fiction  ?" 

"  The  name  you  speak,"  replied  the  Greek, 

"Is  haply  a  misnomer; 
For,  though  I  traveled  oceans  bleak, 

I  never  heard  of  Homer. 

"  But  if  he  writ  in  later  time 

Of  Helen  beauty  laden, 
The  fairest  child  of  Zeus  sublime 

And  still  an  earthly  maiden, 

"  He  followed  truth,  yet  not  one  prize 
Inspired  the  slaughter  wholly, 

Fair  Helen  did  but  symbolize 
All  women,  high  and  lowly. 

"Each  man  in  Helen's  form  divine, 
Where  Venus  loved  to  hover, 

Beheld  another  face  as  fine 

That  owned  him  lord  and  lover. 

"If  Paris  held  Queen  Helen  then, 
How  could  a  lowly  heiress 
101 


STORY    AND   SONG 


Safeguard  herself  from  daring  men 
Who  foully  followed  Paris  ? 

"While  Trojan  walls  were  undermined 
With  right  good  will  and  pleasure, 

We  struck  a  blow  for  woman-kind, 
Man's  high  and  holy  treasure. 

"Some  fought  for  spoil,  or  fame  inclined 

The  ages  to  illumine, 
But  every  warrior's  heart  enshrined 

The  portrait  of  some  woman. 

"Though  plain  of  face,  and  little  grace, 

A  lowly  hut  to  dwell  in, 
To  him  it  was  a  royal  place 

And  she  a  blameless  Helen." 

Ulysses  paused  and  after  while 

I  shyly  mentioned  Circe, 
And  fair  Calypso's  luring  smile — 

Who  showed  him  little  mercy. 

"  How  came  it,  sir,  these  maids  of  guile 
For  eight  long  years  were  keeping 

Ulysses  from  his  rocky  isle, 
And  Penelope  a-weeping?" 

He  grimly  smiled,  then  answered  low: 
"When  perished  Priam's  towers 

I  prayed  that  I  might  homeward  go 
Unhindered  by  the  powers. 
102 


WANDERINGS    OF    ULYSSES 

"  Unheard,  unheeded  rose  my  prayers. 

By  Neptune  fiercely  hated, 
Woes  heaped  on  woes,  unnumbered  cares 

Ulysses  bore,  ill-fated. 

"By  fortune  tossed  to  Circe's  sea, 
I  found  her  more  than  human, 

Or  if  a  mortal  maid,  then  we 
Are  weaker  far  than  woman. 

"  And  if  I  fell  beneath  the  spelJ 

Of  fair  Calypso  longer, 
'Twould  seem  to  tell  by  logic  well 

The  weaker  are  the  stronger. 

"I  never  knew  until  tonight, 

Penelope  was  tearful  — 
It  must  have  been  the  horrid  sight 

Of  slaughter  that  was  fearful. 

u  Four  baneful  years  the  suitor  train 

Ran  riot  in  my  towers, 
And  queenly  aim  seemed  rather  vain 

Of  her  coquettish  powers. 

"Think  not  I  came  to  dim  her  fame 
Or  cast  one  base  suspicion  — 

Penelope's  the  brightest  name 
Among  the  women  Grecian." 

A  thousand  things  I  fain  would  know 
Of  Eris'  golden  apple, 
103 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Which  set  Hellenic  hosts  aglow 
With  Trojan  arms  to  grapple. 

How  gods  made  sport  of  human  life, 
Doomed  kingdoms  fair  to  slaughter, 

Because  a  princeling  judge  Jove's  wife 
Was  plainer  than  his  daughter. 

But  ere  my  queries  leaped  in  air 

Ulysses  read  them  hidden; 
In  deep  despair  his  lips  declare: 

"Such  knowledge  is  forbidden." 

He  paused  an  instant  as  the  clock 
Was  chiming  out  the  hour; 

The  Grecian  gazed,  perplexed,  amazed 
At  such  peculiar  power. 

I  told  the  plan  that  watches  ran 

To  count  Time's  flying  movements, 

And  he  began:  "Perchance  then  man 
Hath  other  fair  improvements. 

"If  thou  wilt  be  a  guide  to  me 

I'll  deem  thy  toil  a  favor, 
To  kindly  show  where'er  we  go 

The  marked  results  of  labor. 

"Nearby  I  viewed  an  olive  tree, 
The  sign  of  famous  Athens, 

And  roamed  a  valley  fair  to  see 
Which  many  cattle  fattens. 

104 


WANDERINGS    OF    ULYSSES 

"Your  figs  I  know,  your  purple  grapes 

Are  surely  Bacchanalian; 
If  I  might  now  dispute  your  dates 

Fd  hardly  seem  an  alien. 

"Your  mountains  high  that  prop  the  sky 

Inspire  a  lofty  mission, 
And  near  thy  shores  old  Neptune  roars 

To  make  the  land  like  Grecian. 

"Your  temples  seem  a  recent  dream — 

Behold  on  yonder  gleaming 
A  single  cross  with  gold  emboss; 

Can'st  thou  construe  its  meaning?" 

"Your  gods  are  dead  and  gone,"  I  said  ; 

"  Olympian  heights  are  lonely. 
We  worship  one  almighty  head, 

The  Father  of  men,  only. 

"That  cross  a  symbol  of  His  child 

To  death  and  torture  given, 
By  those  he  would  have  reconciled 

To  Life  and  Truth  and  heaven." 

He  sadly  sighed  and  then  replied  : 
"  The  night  is  swiftly  going  — 

Wilt  thou  abide  Ulysses'  guide 

And  show  what's  worth  the  showing  ?  " 

I  plead  infirmity  and  age, 

A  frame  somewhat  rheumatic  : 

105 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Then,  coming  near,  the  mighty  sage 
Smiled  down  on  me  ecstatic. 

He  touched  and  banished  every  ill  — 

His  hand  was  like  an  ember; 
It  lent  a  thrill  to  nerve  and  will 

And  freedom  to  each  member. 

He  waved  aside  my  thanks  and  cried : 

"  No  time  for  idle  talking." 
He  clasped  my  hand  and  bade  me  stand 

And  I,  once  more,  was  walking. 

A  brilliant  sight,  a  royal  night, 

Ulysses  gazed  in  wonder 
In  street  and  shop,  in  tree  and  top 

With  shadows  playing  under. 

He  vowed:  "The  stars  are  chained  to  earth." 

(His  ancient  mind  benighted.) 
I  showed  him  streets  and  homes  of  worth 

Are  now  electrolighted. 

He  shouted,  as  we  passed  up  Main, 

"Beware!  the  fiery  dragon!" 
"  Nay,  nay,"  I  deign,  "  a  railway  train, 

A  mighty  horse  and  wagon." 

We  hailed  a  car  but  when  afar 

He  saw  electric  flashes, 
And  startled  by  the  lambent  flame 

He  panic-stricken  dashes. 
106 


WANDERINGS    OF    ULYSSES 

In  disarray  he  groaning  lay — 
I  bade  him  cease  his  moaning, 

Then  waked  a  city  leagues  away 
And  set  him  telephoning. 

So  weirdly  sound  the  words  profound, 

Polite  the  tone  and  civil; 
The  hero  heard  each  mystic  word 

As  voice  of  Delphic  sibyl. 

We  hailed  afar  another  car 

Which  bore  us  to  the  city, 
With  women  fair  whose  bosoms  bare 

Awoke  his  wond'ring  pity. 

The  ghostly  ear  could  plainly  hear 

The  phonographic  singing; 
And  music  bells  wrought  deeper  spells 

When  Christmas  chimes  were  ringing. 

We  climbed  nearby  a  stairway  high 

Above  the  topmost  gable, 
And  viewed  a  scene  twixt  earth  and  sky 

Surpassing  fairy  fable. 

Like  shuttles  flying  to  and  fro 
The  shadows  swiftly  cleaving, 

The  rainbow  cars  would  come  and  go, 
A  mighty  city  weaving ! 

Saw  man's  desire  in  strands  of  wire 
From  hill-top,  mast  and  steeple; 
107 


STORY   AND    SONG 


We  note  the  living  lights  of  fire, 
The  distant  hum  of  people. 

I  solved  him  how  Jove's  lightnings  bow 

To  man  a  servant  willing, 
A  hundred-handed  giant  now, 

A  Hermes  swift  and  thrilling. 

How  mighty  iron  vessels  glide 

With  automatic  motion, 
And  breast  the  gale  without  a  sail 

And  laugh  at  angry  ocean. 

I  pointed  where  the  viewless  air 

Bore  wires  telegraphic 
To  cables  deep  where  monsters  sleep 

Unconscious  of  their  traffic. 

"Enough,"  he  cried,  "let  magic  end, 

This  passes  our  Elysian ; 
Perchance,  O  friend,  when  we  descend, 

'Twill  fade  away,  a  vision." 

Upon  the  elevator's  call 

We  entered  with  fair  ladies, 

And  as  the  room  began  to  fall, 

"O  save,"  he  cried,  "from  Hades." 

Quite  indiscreet,  we  crossed  a  street, 
Midst  cars  and  cycles  flying; 

The  Grecian  said  :  "I'm  of  the  dead 
Or  I  should  soon  be  dying." 
108 


WANDERINGS    OF    ULYSSES 

At  length  arrived  at  tunnel  wide, 
"  Ah  safe,"  he  sighed,  "  a  grotto." 

Then  leaped  aside  where  bikers  ride 
And  just  escaped  an  auto. 

cc  No  more,"  he  cried,  u  no  more  I  pray, 

Nor  other  wonders  notice. 
I  marvel  not  ye  moderns  say  : 

c  This  is  the  land  of  Lotus.' 

"  Where  all  earth's  flowers  scent  the  breeze, 

Where  every  fruit  is  eaten; 
The  garden  of  Hesperides 

And  our  Elysian  beaten. 

u  With  women  fair  as  naiads  rare, 
With  men  of  might  and  magic  ; 

I  now  declare  their  wills  to  dare 
Surpass  the  ages  tragic. 

"  And  grander  things  shall  Chronos  bring 

Beyond  all  Grecian  glory, 
A  Homer  yet  unborn  to  sing 

Your  country's  deathless  story. 

"But  not  for  me  your  nightless  days, 
The  rush  and  roar  and  rattle ; 

Unfitted  I  for  modern  ways, 
A  pigmy  in  your  battle. 

"  I  bid  thee  now  a  fond  farewell; 
And,  though  a  guest  unbidden, 
109 


STORY    AND    SONG 


A  thousand  secrets  I  would  tell 
Of  ancient  wisdom  hidden. 

u  But  see  Aurora's  fingers  fair 
The  mountain  peaks  adorning! 

I  must  forsake  the  upper  air 

Ere  come  the  beams  of  morning." 

He  faded  as  a  dream  will  fade, 

Looked  backward  long  and  tender, 

As  I  beheld  the  sun  arrayed 
In  majesty  and  splendor. 


no 


A    MOTHER'S    LOVE 


A  MOTHER'S  LOVE 

Time  is  waiting  a  moment  for  me 

To  behold  a  vision  fair; 
He  has  raised  the  sky  from  peak  to  sea 

And  beauty  is  everywhere. 

The  river  flows  by  forest  and  field 
Where  my  infant  songs  were  sung; 

Where  over  me  like  a  warrior's  shield 
The  whispering  maples  hung. 

The  sun  is  watching  the  winding  sheet 
The  storm-king  weaves  of  white 

And  the  diamonds  shaped  of  snow  and  sleet 
Reflect  his  golden  light. 

The  frost  has  locked  both  river  and  lake 

And  given  the  key  to  Spring; 
They  silent  sleep  but  will  soon  awake 

When  the  early  robbins  sing. 

Both  forest  and  field  are  left  behind 

And  prairies  come  in  view; 
O'er  chasm  and  gorge  we  swiftly  climb 

The  heights  which  pierce  the  blue. 

The  mountains  now  have  lifted  their  heads 
To  prop  the  drooping  sky, 
in 


STORY    AND    SONG 


Where  the  sea-born  cloudlet  often  sheds 
Her  tears  in  passing  by. 

We  are  resting  now  in  orange  land 

By  Balboa's  peaceful  sea. 
But  'tis  not  for  these  I  understand 

This  vision  appears  to  me. 

For  forest  and  field  and  changing  sights 
Are  naught  but  the  picture's  frame; 

I  have  need  to  scale  the  grander  heights 
To  worthily  write  its  name. 

For  earth  hath  never  a  desert  wide 

Nor  mountain  towering  free, 
To  measure  the  half  my  dearest  guide 

Has  fondly  given  to  me. 

Name  me  a  price  for  a  mother's  love, 

What  do  I  think  of  gold  ? 
Pile  it  as  high  as  the  heavens  above  — 

For  that  it  can't  be  sold. 

Fashion  a  palace  beyond  compare 

With  jewels  garnished  bright, 
With  costly  wood  and  marble  rare 

A  dazzling  house  of  light; 

To  this  you  may  join  a  royal  throne, 

A  kingdom  you  may  proffer; 
She  would  raise  me  high  to  make  mine  own 

The  scepter  that  you  offer. 
112 


A    MOTHER'S    LOVE 


Within  the  circled  rim  of  life 

I  see  her  form  beside  me, 
Warding  away  the  storm  and  strife 

And  ills  that  would  betide  me. 

She  watched  beside  my  cradle  sleep 
While  helplessly  I  slumbered, 

Beseeching  Heaven  to  guard  and  keep 
With  prayers  that  can't  be  numbered. 

As  years  rolled  on  the  storms  of  youth 
Were  hushed  with  her  caressing, 

While  from  fond  lips  I  learned  the  truth 
That  makes  of  life  a  blessing. 

And  though  I  cannot  reason  why 

I  often  caused  her  sorrow, 
The  pardon  of  her  kindly  eye 

Came  always  ere  the  morrow. 

And  now,  though  many  years  are  fled 

Since  I  became  a  rover, 
Her  blessings  follow  where  I  tread 

And  shielding  hover  over. 

Oh,  wondrous  love  a  mother  shows — 

A  wonder  never  ceasing  — 
A  love  which  God  implanted  grows 

Throughout  the  years  increasing. 


STORY   AND    SONG 


My  vision  fair  begins  to  end 

Like  panoramic  letter; 
It  teaches  me,  my  dearest  friend, 

How  deep  I  am  your  debtor! 

And  though  the  language  that  we  speak 
Hath  many  words  and  phrases, 

It  seemeth  now  but  poor  and  weak 
Since  I  would  pen  your  praises. 

Yet  not  a  murmur  shall  this  bear 

In  one  way  or  another, 
As  I  a  priceless  jewel  wear, 

The  love  of  my  dear  mother ! 

And  when  I  pass  adown  the  tide 

To  cross  the  mystic  river, 
Oh,  meet  me  on  the  farther  side 

And  love  me  there  forever. 


114 


JENNIE 


JENNIE 

This  land  hath  many  charms,  I  know, 

Of  tropic  fruit  and  vine ; 
Its  mountain  tops  are  crowned  with  snow; 

Its  valleys  teem  with  wine. 

The  odor  of  the  orange  bloom 

O'erladens  vesper  breeze, 
And  ocean  zephyrs  bear  perfume 

From  flowering  almond  trees. 

The  feathered  palm  and  stately  pine 

Are  rivals  for  a  place, 
While  boughs  of  cedar  and  of  lime 

Here  often  interlace. 

The  bending  fruit  of  lemon  tree, 

The  modest  apple's  worth, 
And  olive  of  the  southern  sea 

Ask  only  soil  for  birth. 

Amid  the  ever-blooming  rose 

Are  fairest  lilies  seen; 
Magnolia  with  acacia  glows 

Beneath  the  moonlight's  sheen. 

And  overhead  in  summer  time, 
Nay  during  all  the  year, 


STORY    AND    SONG 


The  tuneful  birds  are  pouring  rhyme 
In  every  waiting  ear. 

Yet  in  this  paradise  below 

Of  favored  fruits  and  flowers, 

Of  songs  which  seem  to  ever  flow 
Within  these  fragrant  bowers, 

I  think  of  one  who  neath  them  goes — 
The  theme  of  humble  pen — 

More  worth  to  me  than  all  that  grows 
In  valley,  plain  or  glen. 

I  know  with  me  you  will  agree 

If  multiplied  by  ten, 
So  valuable  they  would  not  be 

As  my  beloved  Jen. 


116 


LONGING 


LONGING 

Sing,  O  muse  of  Heaven,  sing 

A  song  of  hope  and  cheer, 
For  the  heart  is  weary  and  worn 
With  a  weight  of  sorrow  borne 
Year  after  year. 

Come,  O  holy  angel,  come 

With  answer  from  on  high, 
Why  a  feeble  form  was  made 
To  battle  giants  fierce  arrayed, 
To  suffer,  then  to  die. 

Send,  O  God  of  Heaven,  send 

A  ray  of  light  divine, 
As  thou  didst  send  to  ancient  men; 
Illuminate  a  humble  pen, 

Inspire;some  word  of  mine. 

Hear,  O  Thou  who  hearest  all, 

The  deep,  despairing  cry 
Of  helpless  beings  set  afloat 
On  ether  sea  in  open  boat, 
Waiting,  waiting  to  die. 

Behold,  O  Thou  who  seest  all, 
The  earth  a  ship  at  sea; 
117 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Driven  northward  and  then  to  south, 
Feeling  famine  and  deadly  drouth, 
Hurricaned  east  and  now  to  west — 
Vainly  seeking  a  port  of  rest  — 
The  ship  of  humanity. 

Give,  O  Giver  of  all  good, 

Give  thy  children  light. 
Show  us  whither  our  driftings  tend, 
Give  us  a  glimpse  of  Heaven  as  end 

To  cheer  our  hearts  to  fight. 

Show,  O  Thou  who  showeth  the  way, 

Thy  love  from  day  to  day. 
Let  it  bind  like  the  strongest  rope 
Our  tired  hearts  to  the  anchor  hope 
And  hold  them  safe  alway. 


118 


FATE 


FATE 

I  hold  that  Fate  is  but  a  foil 
To  try  the  metal  of  the  soul ; 

'Tis  not  the  triumph  but  the  toil 
That  bringeth  nearer  to  the  goal. 

We  proudly  deem  our  pathway  best 
And  fret  at  barriers  on  the  way, 

When  bolts  and  bars  are  but  the  test 
Of  worth  that  wins  a  later  day. 

Perchance  the  chosen  pathway's  wrong, 
Perchance!  ah,  is  there  any  chance  ? 

Although  another's  thrice  as  long 
Be  sure  it  leadeth  in  advance. 

'Tis  earnest  striving  lendeth  strength, 
The  thrust  and  parry  giveth  skill, 

And  Fate  may  go  the  utmost  length 
Ere  seeming  bends  his  sovereign  will. 

'Tis  only  seeming,  for  the  strife 
Hath  lent  us  keener  eyes  to  see, 

Amid  the  wilful  dreams  of  life, 
The  King's  highway  to  victory. 


119 


STORY    AND    SONG 


THE    OAKS 

A  tiny  oak  a  summer's  day 

Was  withering  in  the  burning  sun; 

The  life  was  slipping  fast  away  — 
An  infant  life  but  scarce  begun. 

I  hastened  to  a  singing  rill 

And  kneeling  on  its  flowery  brink, 

My  hunting  cap  did  quickly  fill 
Then  gave  the  dying  oak  a  drink. 

When  I  returned  long  years  had  flown  — 
Old  Time  had  sprinkled  locks  with  gray- 

And  there  I  found  my  oak  had  grown 
A  mighty  monarch  o'er  the  way. 

Within  its  boughs  a  choir  of  birds 
Made  all  the  air  resound  with  song ; 

Beneath  its  arches  lowing  herds 

Found  cooling  shade  the  summer  long. 


I  gave  a  friendly  hand  to  one 

Who,  fiercely  by  temptation  tried, 

Arose  and  stood  and  overcome 
The  satan  he  had  walked  beside. 

Now  as  a  giant  oak  he  stands 
And  turns  aside  misfortune's  rod 
120 


THE    OAKS 


From  wearied  hearts  and  weakened  hands- 
Co-worker  with  Almighty  God. 

Thrice  blessed  he  who  reaches  down 

To  help  a  fallen  brother  up ; 
And  thou  art  drawing  near  a  crown 

By  giving  one  refreshing  cup. 


121 


STORY   AND    SONG 


THE    FAVORED    ONES 

Last  night  as  I  was  dreaming 

Of  another  Christmas  night, 
There  came  a  moon-beam  streaming 

Like  a  Jacob's  ladder  bright. 
And  down  the  silvern  ladder 

Came  an  angel  passing  fair, 
And  the  darkened  room  was  gladder 

With  his  sweet  and  heavenly  air. 

And  I  dreamed  he  told  the  story, 

How  the  mighty  and  the  strong 
Came  once  with  him  from  glory 

To  chant  a  wondrous  song. 
And  a  sweeter  song  was  never 

Heard  by  any  mortal  ears  — 
A  song  that  grows  forever 

Sweet  and  sweeter  through  the  years. 

Not  to  the  proud  and  haughty, 

Nor  to  those  of  lordly  state, 
Nor  in  the  temple  lofty, 

But  to  men  of  lowly  fate. 
To  simple  shepherds  only 

Came  the  chanting  cherubim, 
And  on  the  hillside  lonely 

Was  heard  that  holy  hymn. 
122 


THE    FAVORED    ONES 

The  shepherds  heard  astounded: 

"Peace,  peace  to  all  the  earth." 
While  all  the  air  resounded 

For  the  blest  Redeemer's  birth. 
They  sang  to  God  their  praises 

On  the  hills  of  Bethlehem 
And  wove  with  heavenly  phrases 

Good  will  to  erring  men. 

Oh,  blessed  sight  and  hearing, 

Thrice  favored  shepherd  men 
To  whom  the  host  appearing 

Sang  the  Babe  of  Bethlehem. 
And  I  dreamed  the  angel  holy 

Praised  the  path  the  humble  trod, 
And  taught  me  that  the  lowly 

Are  the  favored  ones  of  God. 


123 


STORY    AND    SONG 


LET  ME   DWELL 

Let  me  dwell  where  lofty  mountains 

Safely  guard  a  peaceful  dell ; 
Where  the  sweetly  murm'ring  fountains 

All  their  dreams  of  ocean  tell. 
I  would  waken  with  the  morning 

And  behold  the  sun  in  pride 
With  his  beams  the  earth  adorning 

Till  she  sparkled  like  a  bride. 

In  a  fairy  grotto  dwelling 

Where  the  birds  would  sing  to  me, 
Each  one  of  his  freedom  telling, 

Wishing  I  were  also  free; 
Free  amid  the  giant  towers 

Lifted  high  above  the  plain, 
Free  to  roam  among  the  flowers, 

Knowing  naught  of  grief  or  pain. 

There  are  those  who  love  commotion 

In  the  mighty  city's  roar, 
Or  the  rage  of  angry  ocean 

Dashing  wildly  on  the  shore, 
But  for  me  Heaven  seemeth  nearer 

From  the  crown  of  mountain  high, 
As  I  watch  with  vision  clearer 

Countless  stars  go  wheeling  by. 
124 


LET   ME   DWELL 


There  with  God  around  me  reigning 

Far  from  sorrow,  care  and  strife, 
With  my  spirit  upward  training 

For  a  grander,  higher  life; 
Waiting  for  the  summons  only 

With  a  sweet  and  calm  content, 
Praying  that  some  mountain  lonely 

Be  for  me  a  monument. 


STORY   AND   SONG 


RETROSPECTION 

Come  rest  ye  in  the  Window 

As  sol  sinks  down  the  west, 
And  answer  me  the  query, 

Whom  love  you  now  the  best  ? 
I  know  that  others  loved  thee 

With  love  akin  to  pain; 
If  thou  were  now  a-choosing 

Would  I  be  yours  again? 

I'll  understand  your  answer 

Though  not  a  sigh  is  heard, 
For  secret  thoughts  of  lovers 

Need  not  the  spoken  word. 
With  fondest  recollection 

Recall  the  years  agone 
And  choose  again  a  lover, 

Like  maiden  at  her  dawn. 

Some  offered  wealth  and  station 

But  I  had  naught  to  give, 
Save  my  sincere  affection 

So  long  as  we  should  live; 
Yea,  I  believe  I  told  you 

That  we  should  love  alway, 
Both  here  and  there  in  heaven — 

Forever  and  a  day. 
126 


RETROSPECTION 


The  boastful  words  of  lover, 

And  still  I  hold  them  true, 
That  we  shall  love  each  other 

Beyond  that  curtain  blue. 
Though  now  and  then  a  sorrow 

Brought  bitter  tears  like  rain, 
Yet  ever  on  the  morrow 

Our  joy  effaced  the  pain. 

Speak  not,  for  speech  is  silver; 

Thy  silence  be  the  gold 
That  gives  my  heart  a  message 

Too  precious  to  be  told. 
I  envy  not  the  mighty 

Nor  those  of  princely  line  — 
Since  thou  art  mine  forever 

And  I  forever  thine. 


127 


STORY   AND    SONG 


THE  WATCHWORD 

Stand  porter  at  the  door  of  thought. 

— Science  and  Health,  392, 

Stand  guard,  O  Christian  soldier; 

Be  faithful  evermore, 
Let  not  a  thought  of  evil 

Find  entrance  at  the  door. 
Put  on  the  proven  armor 

And  with  the  word  of  Truth 
Rout  every  form  of  error 

And  win  immortal  youth. 

Be  mindful  of  the  temple 

To  keep  the  holy  place, 
So  He  may  send  His  angels 

To  meet  thee  face  to  face. 
O  let  the  upper  chamber 

Be  garnished  pure  and  bright, 
All  ready  for  the  Master 

Who  bringeth  Life  and  light. 

Hush  all  the  mortal  senses 

That  ye  may  hear  the  word, 
For  in  the  deepest  silence 

The  voice  of  Truth  is  heard. 
Be  constant  in  communion, 

Keep  faithful  watch  and  ward 
128 


THE   WATCHWORD 


That  ye  may  hear  the  greetings 
Of  the  ever  present  Lord. 

Again  the  heavenly  Father 

Hath  sent  the  certain  sign, 
That  He  is  with  His  children 

In  healing  power  divine. 
And  stately  science  marches 

With  Leader  on  before, 
Who  signals  us  the  WATCHWORD 

"Stand  porter  at  the  door." 


129 


STORY    AND    SONG 


THE    UNFINISHED  STATUE 

In  classic  Greece  a  temple  stands, 

So  beautiful  to  human  eye, 
Although  the  work  of  earthly  hands, 

It  seems  the  product  of  the  sky. 

And  thus  indeed  the  legends  run, 
That  many  forms  of  god-like  race 

Began  when  Phoebus  hid  the  sun 

To  carve  and  set  the  stones  in  place. 

The  virgin  marble  daily  brought 
Was  nightly  into  beauty  born, 

Beyond  the  power  of  mortal  thought, 
Surpassing  human  skill  to  form. 

I  know  not  how  the  temple  came 

With  all  its  beauty,  truth  and  worth, 

For  time  has  hidden  name  and  fame 
Of  those  who  here  enriched  the  earth. 

Within  that  stately  templed  hall 
A  group  of  marble  statues  rise, 

And  if  skilled  mortals  need  to  call 
For  aid  above  the  bended  skies, 

To  build  the  temple,  then  I  know 
They  must  have  very  lowly  bent 

130 


THE    UNFINISHED    STATUE 

And  prayed  the  powers  not  to  go 
Till  each  his  own  bright  image  lent. 

Each  statue  stands  in  thoughtful  mood, 
As  though  a  living,  breathing  god  — 

Might  speak  a  language  understood, 
Or  smile  and  answer  with  a  nod. 

Instinct  with  swift  intelligence, 

Of  matchless  form  and  peerless  face, 

If  not  from  heaven,  O  tell  me  whence 
Came  all  this  fairness,  mind  and  grace. 

Another  statue  —  incomplete  — 
A  neighbor,  yet  aloof  it  stands, 

As  though  the  sculptor  would  repeat 
A  stroke  before  it  left  his  hands 

To  take  its  place  among  the  rest 
Divinely  wrought,  divinely  fair, 

As  if  perfection  were  the  test 

For  entrance  where  the  brothers  are. 

Tho'  heaven's  brightness,  truth  and  worth 
Are  visible  in  curve  and  line, 

It  yet  must  lose  some  touch  of  earth 
To  show  forth  beauty  all  divine. 

Famed  masters  came  to  strike  the  blow 
To  set  the  dreamed-of  beauty  free; 

But  no  one  struck,  for  none  could  know 
Whose  likeness  should  the  statue  be. 


STORY   AND   SONG 


No  mortal  found  the  needed  skill  — 
None  wise  enough  to  understand  — 

And  there  it  is  awaiting  still 
A  single  touch  of  master  hand. 


Oh  God,  as  statues  incomplete, 
Before  thy  loving  face  we  stand, 

And  humbly  pray  that  we  may  meet 
A  touch  of  thine  almighty  hand. 

Oh  carve  within  each  child  of  thine 
A  likeness  of  Thyself  alone, 

So  all  will  know  the  hand  divine 
Has  wrought  a  marvel  all  its  own. 

Thy  power  alone  can  set  us  free 
From  seeming  ills  of  mortal  birth - 

An  image  of  Thyself  to  be, 

Without  a  single  touch  of  earth. 


132 


A    CHRISTMAS    PRAYER 


A  CHRISTMAS    PRAYER 

Out  of  the  blue  that  bends  above 

Come  Thou,  O  Lord!  to-day  in  love, 

Let  seraphs  chant  their  song  again : 

"  Peace !  peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  men ! " 

Oh  gladden  now  our  mother  earth 

A  second  time,  by  second  birth, 

By  reappearing  once  again 

Incarnate  in  the  hearts  of  men ; 

How  small  the  upward  growth  we  show 

Through  nineteen  hundred  years  of  woe  ! 

The  rich  whom  Thou  rebuked  of  old 

Have  multiplied  a  thousand  fold, 

And  tens  of  thousands  feel  the  fate 

Of  Lazarus  at  Dives'  gate. 

They  gather  in  their  wealth  untold  — 

A  miser's  musty,  rusty  gold, — 

And  watch  their  fellows  by  the  scores 

Starving  and  freezing  at  their  doors. 

Melt  Thou  their  hearts  to  give  and  give! 

For  all  men  have  a  right  to  live. 

Melt  Thou  their  gold  until  it  runs 

To  feed  the  hungry,  starving  ones, 

To  warm  and  clothe  the  poor  and  weak, 

Who  vainly  honest  labor  seek. 

The  Pharisees,  in  haughty  pride, 

Still  on  the  earth,  O  Lord  !  abide, 

133 


STORY    AND    SONG 


And  claim  anew  the  highest  place, 
As  paragons  of  all  the  race. 
The  priest  and  Levite  still  pass  by 
And  leave  the  wounded  one  to  die; 
But  thanks  to  Thee,  for  now  and  then 
There  comes  the  good  Samaritan, 
Who,  with  a  brother's  heart  to  feel, 
Binds  up  the  cruel  wounds  of  steel. 
Speak,  Lord,  to  souls  so  sad  and  sore  : 
"Go  thou,  O  woman,  sin  no  more." 
And  with  Thy  finger  as  a  pen 
Write  mercy  on  the  hearts  of  men. 
We  seek  no  later  word  or  sign  — 
Thy  gospel,  Lord,  is  still  divine, 
And  fills  the  whole  of  human  needs, 
If  prayers  would  blossom  into  deeds. 
O  let  the  spirit  of  Thy  word 
In  every  land  be  felt  and  heard, 
Till  men  will  know  their  hoards  of  years 
Are  minted  out  of  human  tears, 
And  hasten  backward  with  the  spoil 
They  wrung  from  weaker  brother's  toil. 
Speed,  speed  the  hour  when  we  shall  see 
More  justice,  love  and,  charity  — 
Till  all  will  feel  each  human  throb 
As  children  of  one  Father,  God  ! 


THE    THREE    BELLS 


THE   THREE    BELLS 

Ho !  sexton,  strong  sexton,  why  ring  you  the  bell  ? 
And  what  of  the  message  it  striveth  to  tell  ? 
Do  winds  as  they  stoop  for  a  burden  of  song 
Bear  sorrow  or  joy  as  they  journey  along  ? 

Aye,  stranger,  fair  stranger,  list,  list  to  the  bell, 
And  learn  you  the  tidings  it  seeketh  to  tell: 
It  rings  out  with  gladness  this  bright  summer  morn, 
For  a  baby  in  yonder  brave  mansion  is  born. 

Ho  !  sexton,  good  sexton,  why  ring  you  the  bell? 
And  what  are  the  triumphs  it  seems  to  foretell? 
Its  message  rolls  onward  surpassingly  grand, 
As  if  it  would  welcome  the  great  of  the  land. 

Kind  neighbor,  true  neighbor,  list,  list  to  the  bell, 
And  hear  their  sweet  vows  in  its  musical  swell. 
Mark  thou  the  "  I  will  "  of  the  groom  in  his  pride, 
Who  lovingly  looks  on  the  face  of  his  bride. 

Ho  !  sexton,  gray  sexton,  why  toll  you  the  bell? 
Whose  heart  bows  in  sorrow,  for  whom  is  the  knell? 
I  hear  the  sad  wailing,  the  cry  of  despair  — 
I  catch  the  low  voice  of  the  preacher  in  prayer. 

O  brother,  dear  brother,  list,  list  to  the  bell: 

Its  throbbing,  how  mournful,  yet  know  all  is  well. 

135 


STORY    AND   SONG 


It  rang  for  the  baby ;  it  welcomed  the  bride, 
And  now  it  is  tolling  because  she  has  died. 

But  brother,  still  list  to  a  deep  undertone, 
Resounding  so  sweet  in  a  note  of  its  own; 
It  rises  in  waves  like  a  musical  tide, 
Till  blending  with  song  on  eternity's  side. 

She  came  as  a  blessing  from  region  above; 
She  gave  of  herself,  of  her  gold  and  her  love; 
She  followed  the  pathway  her  Savior  had  trod, 
And  was  fitted  to  stand  in  the  presence  of  God, 


136 


SANTA    CLARA   VALLEY 


SANTA  CLARA  VALLEY 

Afar  where  yonder  mountains  high 
Stand  propping  up  the  opal  sky, 
A  streamlet  in  its  maiden  leap 
Dashes  itself  adown  the  steep, 
To  join  anon  in  wid'ning  sweep 
The  peaceful  waters  of  the  deep. 
The  fountain  swiftly  speeds  away 
To  wed  the  mountains  with  the  bay ; 
Beneath  our  feet  it  sings  along 
The  carol  of  its  bridal  song. 
From  cedared  heights  to  waters  blue 
Fair  is  the  land  to  mortal  view. 

Behold,  by  Nature's  hand  arrayed, 
Orchards  of  every  hue  and  shade. 
The  vineyards,  sloping  gently  down, 
With  luscious  beauty  highlands  crown. 
Embroidered  blocks  of  olive  green 
Checker  the  land  along  the  stream, 
While  rival  ranks  of  cherries  run, 
Flashing  their  beauty  in  the  sun. 
Towering  pine  and  pampas  plume 
Soon  will  nod  to  the  purpling  prune. 
Three  months  ago  the  almonds  fair 
Were  swinging  censers  in  the  air, 

137 


STORY    AND    SONG 


Wafting  on  high  their  recompense, 
Sweeter  than  myrrh  and  frankincense, 
And  matin  song  of  praising  bird 
From  golden  orange  bough  was  heard, 
While  countless  hands  of  fronded  palm 
Welcome  waved  in  the  vernal  calm. 

Beyond  that  hill,  fair  Nature's  toy, 
Lies  hid  the  town  of  far  Gilroy. 
Across  yon  deeply  wooded  glen 
Are  the  whitened  homes  of  Almaden, 
Where  nature  sought  in  vain  to  hide 
Her  store  which  gleams  a  silver  tide, 
And  from  the  mountains'  bursting  side, 
Through  shaft  and  tunnel  deep  and  wide, 
The  liquid  silver,  led  by  men, 
Pours  from  the  mines  of  Almaden. 
Viewed  from  afar,  I  faintly  see 
Thy  grove,  O  University! 
The  distant  touch  of  space  and  time 
Hath  smoothed  that  rugged  form  of  thine, 
Till  heart  and  soul  and  eye  can  see 
Only  the  good  and  fair  in  thee. 

That  azure  gleaming  far  away  — 
A  seeming  fragment  of  the  sky  — 
Is  where  the  freighted  waters  lie 

Of  lordly  San  Francisco  Bay. 

It  is  the  turquoise  of  the  ring, 


138 


SANTA    CLARA   VALLEY 

Whose  circled  rim  the  mountains  form, 
These  verdant  heights  reared  to  adorn 

The  sweet  abiding  place  of  spring. 

That  height,  beyond  fair  San  Jose, 
Surmounted  by  that  regal  dome, 
Hath  now  become  the  vigil  home 

Of  those  who  walk  the  starry  way. 

Oh,  crowned  pile  of  Hamilton ! 

Where  mysteries  are  brought  to  light, 
Where  worlds  are  conquered  of  the  night, 

And  marvel  after  marvel  won. 


139 


STORY   AND   SONG 


TWO    FLOWERS 

To  "  Little  Sister." 

A  violet  bloomed  in  mountain  dell, 
With  tender  grace  on  fairy  face, 

And  hue  an  artist  loves  so  well, 
But  only  God  knows  how  to  trace. 

'Twas  lowly,  yet  its  chaliced  cup 

Its  treasure  lent,  and  sweetest  scent 
Rose  ever  upward  and  still  up, 
Like  orisons  on  heaven  bent. 

A  strong  wind  came  and  rudely  shook 
The  tiny  bloom  till  all  perfume 

Was  yielded  up;  but  oh,  the  look 

The  flower  gave  was  tinged  with  gloom, 

Then  sighed  the  wind:  "I  know  I  stole 
Thy  perfumed  air,  but  I  shall  bear 

It  onward  where  a  youthful  soul 

Is  passing  while  he  breathes  a  prayer.'* 

"Oh,  take  my  life,"  the  flower  said; 

"  I  give  him  all  if  I  can  call 
Him  earthward;  or  if  he  be  dead, 

Then  let  me  rest  upon  the  pall." 


140 


TWO   FLOWERS 


There  is  a  flower  of  human  form 
Whose  prayers  arise  as  sacrifice, 

In  sunshine  or  in  darkened  storm, 
Up  and  still  upward  to  the  skies. 

A  strong  hand  smote  this  bloom  in  youth; 

Yet  from  pale  lips  no  murmur  slips, 
But  only  thankfulness  in  truth 

That  God  is  near  in  life's  eclipse. 

Oft  through  the  leaden  night  she  prays, 
And  days  like  night;  for,  'reft  of  light, 

God  giveth  her  His  brighter  rays, 
Best  fitted  for  angelic  sight. 

/ . 
God  giveth  more;  His  mystic  peace 

In  spite  of  dole  surrounds  the  soul, 
Till  baffled  evil  learns  to  cease 

To  try  to  swerve  her  from  her  goal. 

And  death  himself,  with  threat  of  doom, 
Oft  comes,  then  goes,  as  if  he  chose 

To  leave  this  fair  courageous  bloom, 

To  shame  the  cowards  whom  he  knows, 

This  tiny  one  is  strong,  yet  weak, 
Frail  as  a  flower  whose  only  power 

Is  beauty,  but  the  soul  though  meek 
Is  mightier  than  an  armed  tower. 

A  thousand  hearts  are  in  her  debt, 

For  soothing  word  and  prayers  unheard 
141 


STORY   AND    SONG 


On  earth;  and,  like  the  violet, 
She  offers  all  unto  her  Lord. 

And  we,  who  all  of  this  behold, 
Do  pray  in  love  to  One  above 

That  He  still  bless  her  manifold, 
And  treat  her  as  a  wounded  dove. 


142 


TO   MILDRED 


TO    MILDRED 

A  little  lady  whom  I  know 

Said:  "I'll  be  seven  to-morrow, 

And  laughing  through  the  world  I  go 
Without  a  thought  of  sorrow. 

u  The  sun  peeps  o'er  the  mountain  top, 

And  greets  me  with  his  lances; 
And  through  the  day  he  seems  to  stop, 

With  many  kindly  glances. 

"  He  turns  the  dew  on  bud  and  bloom 

To  gems  of  purest  water, 
And  fills  the  air  with  sweet  perfume, 

As  though  I  were  his  daughter. 

"The  moon  sweeps  onward  through  the  sky, 
With  starry  children  round  her, 

To  silvern  all  the  path  that  I 
Am  walking  while  I  ponder, 

"  If  stars  and  moon  in  sailing  round 

In  the  darkness  by  themselves, 
Have  seen  the  fays,  or  ever  found 

The  home  of  the  fairy  elves. 

"So  loving  all  beneath  the  sun, 
I  never  borrow  trouble; 

143 


STORY    AND    SONG 


While  many  friends  and  kindred  come 
To  make  my  joys  seem  double." 

Pd  wrong  us  both  to  waken  thee 
From  out  your  sweet  elysian, 

Although  it  often  seems  to  me 
Earth's  joys  are  but  a  vision. 

But  while  old  Time  shall  onward  sweep, 
To  turn  your  seven  to  seventy, 

May  sweet  contentment  ever  keep 
Your  wishes  pure  and  heavenly. 

And  with  a  heart  filled  full  of  love 

For  all  that  God  created, 
Your  life  be  linked  to  heaven  above, 

Your  joys  be  unabated. 


144 


FUTURITY 


FUTURITY 

I  know  not  how,  nor  when  nor  where  — 
Yet  I  believe  that  we  shall  meet 

Beyond  that  tapestry  of  air, 

When  mortal  pulses  cease  to  beat. 

I  cannot  think  that  thou  wert  made 

So  wonderously  fair  to  see  — 
To  bloom  a  season,  then  to  fade 

And  vanish  as  a  dream  from  me. 

While  gazing  in  deep  eyes  of  thine, 

I  deem  I  read  the  truth  to  be 
That  thou  the  image  of  divine 

Will  live  through  all  eternity. 

And  I,  aware  of  my  unworth, 

Still  fondly  trust  the  power  of  love 

To  lift  me  upward  from  the  earth, 
Until  I  reach  the  plane  above. 

I  know  not  which  of  us  will  go 
To  pioneer  that  distant  state, 

But  something  whispers  me:    "We  know 
The  first  will  for  the  other  wait." 

So  now  I  rest  contentedly, 

Regarding  neither  time  nor  place, 

As  in  the  end  mine  eyes  shall  see 
Mine  own  beloved  face  to  face. 

145 


STORY   AND   SONG 


LEAVE   THEM    ALONE 

The  San  Bernardino  Indians,  hearing  that  their 
ancient  burial  grounds  were  to  be  plowed  and  planted 
to  orchard  by  white  people,  entered  an  indignant 
protest.  They  have  appealed  to  the  Washington 
authorities  to  prevent  the  threatened  desecration  of 
their  fathers'  graves. 

O  Saxon,  who  boasts  of  dominion  earth-wide, 
Leave  them  alone  on  their  barren  hillside ; 
Touch  not  their  dust  with  your  impious  hand ; 
Spare  to  the  sleepers  their  last  rood  of  land. 
Once  lords  of  woodland,  of  meadow  and  stream, 
Their  sway  has  vanished  away  like  a  dream, 
From  heights  encompassing  valley  around ; 
You  deem  them  trespassers  under  the  ground. 
Where  once  they  were  chieftains  of  mighty  domains, 
Through  force  and  fraud,  not  an  acre  remains. 
Ye  robbed  them  of  all  by  cunning  and  might, 
Beggared  their  children  from  height  unto  height. 
Prate  not  of  your  justice,  and  say  ye  bought, 
For    sometime    and    somewhere    wrongs   that    were 

wrought, 

In  spite  of  decisions  and  laws  ye  laud, 
Have  tainted  your  deeds  in  the  forum  of  God. 
Think  not  their  children,  though  deep  in  disgrace, 
Ever  dishonored  humanity's  race 
146 


LEAVE   THEM    ALONE 

And  bartered  for  gold  the  grave  of  a  sire, 

Save  tempted  by  drink  that  withers  like  fire. 

Some  dust  is  so  sacred  even  your  gold, 

Though  you  were  dowered  as  Croesus  of  old, 

Weighs  as  light  in  scales  of  ultimate  worth, 

As  paltriest  things  on  face  of  the  earth. 

Conceding  that  all  you  grasp  is  your  own, 

Stir  not  the  sleepers  where  each  rests  alone ; 

But  grant  their  children  this  acre  of  sod 

In  a  vale,  whose  spires  should  teach  them  of  God. 

A  few  years  at  most,  the  remnant  will  lie 

In  couches  of  earth  'neath  blue  of  the  sky, 

Anear  to  sires,  who  peopled  the  West, 

The  first  and  last  will  be  gathered  to  rest. 

So  leave  them  their  graves  where  poppies  will  spring, 

Where  breezes  at  morn  and  even  will  sing 

A  requiem  sweet,  with  sorrowful  tone 

Bewailing  a  race  deprived  of  its  own, 

Who  once  masters  of  all,  from  mountain  to  wave, 

Now  begs  the  stranger  the  gift  of  a  grave. 


147 


STORY    AND    SONG 


LADDIE 

Sweeter  is  faith  by  refining, 
Stronger  the  soul  that  is  tried, 
And  never  you  doubt 
The  good  will  come  out, 
If  you  in  the  faith  abide. 

Grieve  not  though  Laddie  be  absent- 
The  Laddie  you  long  to  see  — 

Though  fated  to  part, 

The  love  of  thine  heart 
Is  drawing  him  home  to  thee. 

Ruler  of  men  and  of  nations, 
Heeding  his  children  divine, 

Is  guarding  in  love 

From  heaven  above, 
This  little  Laddie  of  thine. 

Danger  may  threaten  the  Laddie  — 
Never  you  fear  he  will  fall  — 

Far  greater  his  worth 

Than  sparrows  of  earth, 
Yet  the  Father  heareth  their  call. 

Brightly  fair  Luna  is  beaming, 
Turning  thy  night  into  day, 
148 


LADDIE 


She  lamps  in  a  room 
To  banish  the  gloom, 
For  Laddie  so  far  away. 

Daphne  will  glow  on  the  morrow, 
Dimming  the  torches  of  night, 

The  sun  in  plendor 

Arise  a  defender, 
Guiding  the  Laddie  aright. 

Fear  not,  though  hidden  the  future, 
Faint  not,  though  Laddie  must  roam; 

Believe  and  be  glad, 

Thy  love  for  the  Lad 
Is  surely  bringing  him  home. 

Happy  a  morn  that  is  coming  — 
Tearful  but  brimming  with  joy  — 

Thy  bosom  will  bound, 

Thine  arms  circle  round 
Laddie,  dear  Laddie,  thy  boy. 


149 


STORY    AND    SONG 


ARMENIA 

Armenia,  O  Armenia, 

Will  nations  heed  thy  cry, 
Or  must  thou  feel  the  Moslem's  steel 

Till  all  thy  people  die? 

Thy  land  that  once  held  Eden, 
Where  Adam  wept  to  dwell, 

The  savage  Turk  by  fearful  work 
Hath  made  it  now  a  hell. 

Here  Noah's  mighty  mountain 

Uplifts  its  snowy  head, 
And  views  a  plain  piled  high  with  slain, 

Armenia's  martyred  dead ! 

Where  maidens,  Christian  maidens, 
Knelt  down  to  fiendish  Kurds, 

And  on  the  air  breathed  such  a  prayer 
We  dare  not  frame  in  words. 

A  prayer  that  even  Satan 

Might  listen  to  with  pain, 
As  daughters  fair  with  bosoms  bare 

Begged  only  to  be  slain ! 

The  virgin  tears  were  answered 
By  mocking  demons'  laugh, 

150 


ARMENIA 


Than  which  the  knife  that  ended  life 
Seemed  kinder  far  by  half. 

Oh,  chivalry  of  England  ! 

Of  Europe,  of  the  earth  ! 
Your  blades  should  flash,  your  cannons  crash 

For  human  right  and  worth. 

Ought  Turkish  tigers  shepherd 

This  primal  Christian  fold, 
To  boast  of  crimes  unnumbered  times 

Too  fearful  to  be  told  ? 

Wake,  Lion-hearted  Richard ! 

Shake  off  the  clinging  sod ! 
And  once  again  lead  England's  men 

Against  these  foes  of  God. 


STORY   AND    SONG 


CROWN  OF   THE   VALLEY 

(Pasadena) 

Crown  of  the  Valley,  I  leave  thee  in  sadness — 
Sadness  akin  to  both  pleasure  and  pain, 

Pain  in  departing,  and  yet  there  is  gladness 
In  hope  that  whispers  I'll  see  thee  again. 

Crown  of  the  Valley,  thine  orchards  and  flowers 
Unrivaled  by  all  green  meadows  of  earth, 

Save  only  the  fairest  God-planted  bowers, 

That  sheltered  and  shadowed  Eve  at  her  birth. 

Crown  of  the  Valley,  thy  rival  is  beaten  — 
Much  of  her  glory  is  taken  away  — 

Here  every  fruit  of  the  garden  is  eaten, 

None  in  the  land  who  would  say  to  us,  nay. 

Crown  of  the  Valley,  the  orange  is  fruiting  — 
Fruiting  and  shaming  magicians  of  old; 

Nature's  warm  smile  is  daily  transmuting 
White  waxen  flowers  to  planets  of  gold. 

Crown  of  the  Valley,  thou  seemest  a  maiden 
With  beauty  of  form  and  fragrance  of  bloom, 

Breath  of  thy  lips  most  heavily  laden 

With  sweetest  orange  and  almond  perfume. 

152 


CROWN    OF   THE    VALLEY 

Crown  of  the  Valley,  if  I  were  a  lover 

With  boldness  enough  my  love  to  declare, 

I'd  pray  the  kind  fates  that  over  us  hover 
Grant  me  permission  thy  glories  to  share. 

Then  Crown  of  the  Valley,  might  I  be  forgiven 
While  passing  a  life  enchantingly  free, 

If  I  should  forget  the  pathway  to  heaven, 

When  all  my  longings  were  granted  by  thee. 


153 


SRORY    AND    SONG 


A    DREAM 

A  little  lad  with  flaxen  hair 
Rocked  to  sleep  in  his  father's  chair; 
Something  tickled  his  dimpled  chin — 
He  raised  the  veils  that  shut  within 
His  mild  blue  eyes,  and  wond'ring  woke, 
Gazed  round  the  room  before  he  spoke  : 
"Mamma!  I've  been  asleep  and  dreamed 
A  happy  dream;  it  really  seemed 
That  I  rose  upward  to  the  sky, 
And  good  St.  Peter  let  me  by. 
And  as  I  passed  the  double  gate 
The  sun  went  down,  'twas  growing  late, 
An  angel  came  with  golden  hair, 
With  eyes  of  blue,  complexion  fair, 
Hands  as  white  as  the  lily  bell 
That  blows  in  shady  mountain  dell. 
Her  voice  was  low  and  sounded  sweet 
As  songs  the  seraphs  sing  to  greet 
The  weary  pilgrim  from  afar, 
Who  prays  to  pass  the  'Gates  Ajar.' 
With  arms  around  me  soft  and  warm 
She  pressed  me  gently  to  her  form, 
Uplifted  me  on  downy  bed, 
And  sweetly  bending  o'er  me  said : 
'I'm  glad  you've  come,  my  darling  boy, 
To  dwell  alway  with  me  in  joy; 

154 


A    DREAM 


To  see  the  angel  choir  meet, 
And  hear  the  music  loud  yet  sweet, 
Beneath  high  heaven's  lofty  dome. 
This  evermore  to  be  our  home, 
Without  a  sorrow,  sob  or  sigh, 
Without  a  thought  or  fear  to  die; 
With  all  things  bright,  and  all  things  fair, 
Where  joy  has  banished  every  care/ 
And  then  I  thought  my  angel  bright 
Caressed  me  with  such  fond  delight, 
That  o'er  my  face  a  smile  broke; 
And  then  I  dreamed  that  I  awoke. 
And  as  I  sought  the  angel's  eyes, 
Can  you  wonder  at  my  surprise, 
For,  gazing  in  her  eyes  of  blue, 
Mamma  dear,  the  angel  was  you!" 


155 


STORY    AND    SONG 


LA  FIESTA    DE   LA   FLORES 

Come  to  the  feast  of  the  flowers ! 

Where  music  blends  with  mirth, 
Where  swiftly  moving  hours 

Are  brightest  ones  of  earth. 
Where  maiden  hearts  are  sighing 

With  joys  they  fear  to  show, 
As  through  the  dances  flying 

Their  blushes  come  and  go. 

Come  to  the  feast  of  the  flowers  ! 

Where  Nature's  fairest  smile 
Descends  as  gentle  showers, 

Like  blessings  all  the  while. 
Where  gardens  in  December 

Tell  strangers  it  is  June; 
For  every  month,  remember, 

Our  roses  bud  and  bloom. 

Come  to  the  feast  of  the  flowers  ? 

And  all  your  life  renew 
Amid  our  orange  bowers, 

Beneath  our  sky  so  blue. 
Come  realizing  your  dreaming 

Of  happy  distant  clime, 
Where  Luna's  light  is  streaming 

O'er  lemon  grove  and  lime. 

156 


LA   FIESTA    DE   LA   FLORES 

Come  to  the  feast  of  the  flowers ! 

Where  pillared  palm-tree  stands 
Anear  the  home  and  towers, 

With  its  hundred  waving  hands; 
They  beckon  you  in  gladness, 

And  bid  you  hither  run, 
Where  joy  will  banish  sadness 

From  the  heart  of  ev'ry  one. 

Come  to  the  feast  of  the  flowers ! 

Behold  a  vision  bright, 
And  one  the  princely  powers 

Might  gaze  on  with  delight. 
A  pageant  beauty  laden, 

We  welcome  you  to  share 
With  ev'ry  youth  and  maiden 

Of  Los  Angeles,  the  fair. 


157 


STORY   AND   SONG 


AWAKEN,  O  QUEEN 
To  Mrs.  Medina-Wood,  Queen  of  La  Fiesta,    1895 

Awaken,  O  Queen !     The  stars  of  the  morning 

Are  fading  away  from  the  realms  of  the  East, 
And  cherubs  of  dawn  the  skies  are  adorning 

With  colors  outrivaling  those  of  thy  feast ; 
The  sun  in  glory  will  soon  be  revealing 

The  beauty  and  courage  that  thou  wilt  command; 
Into  thy  bower  his  rays  will  be  stealing, 

Saluting  the  monarch  who  ruleth  our  land. 

Awaken,  O  Queen  !     Awaken  to  splendor  ! 

For  thousands  impatient  are  thronging  the  street, 
Each  one  who  would  be  a  knightly  defender 

To  guard  and  protect  thee  from  harm  and  defeat. 
They    march    from    mountains,   from   meadows   and 
valleys, 

The  East  and  the  West  pay  their  homage  to  thee; 
North  and  South  are  uniting  in  rallies, 

As  if  they  were  never  more  rivals  to  be. 

Awaken,  O  Queen  !    Awaken  to  gladness  ! 

Take  part  in  a  dream  that  is  more  than  a  dream. 
Waken  to  banish  all  sorrow  and  sadness 

As  far  as  thy  kingdom  extendeth,  O  Queen. 
Awaken  to  pleasure,  brightness  and  duty ; 


158 


AWAKEN,    O    QUEEN 


Thy  subjects  are  waiting  a  word  of  command  — 
Are  longing  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  thy  beauty, 
A  smile  of  thy  lips,  or  a  wave  of  thy  hand. 

Awaken,  O  Queen  !     For  regions  surrounding 

Are  sending  battalions  in  honor  of  thee ; 
With  clamorous  music  air  is  resounding 

For  marvelous  pageant  of  Balboa's  sea. 
Children  are  coming  to  prove  their  devotions; 

What  sovereign  has  subjects  as  happy  and  bright — 
Full  filling  the  heart  with  deepest  emotions, 

Emotions  of  beauty,  sweet  love  and  delight. 

Awaken,  O  Queen  !      For  brief  is  thy  reigning  — 

A  season  of  splendor  for  only  a  week ; 
Even  though  subjects  are  never  complaining, 

This  briefness  brings  sadness  that  none  of  us  seek. 
So  when  La  Fiesta's  moments  are  ending, 

And  vanished  the  glitter,  the  worry  and  strife, 
Perchance  thou  wilt  favor  all  by  extending 

Thy  scepter  and  kingdom  the  balance  of  life. 


159 


STORY    AND   SONG 


WELCOME,  GRACIOUS   QUEEN  OF 
MIRTH 

To  Mildred  Howell  Lewis,  Queen  of  La  Fiesta,  1896 

Bannered  flags  in  ocean  air 
Wave  a  welcome,  lady  fair, 
Harvests  of  our  gardens  rare 
Weave  a  pattern  for  your  feet; 
While  upon  the  crowded  street 
Tens  of  thousands  throng  to  greet 
Thee,  whose  worth  and  beauty  won 
Fairest  throne  beneath  the  sun. 

Dowered  by  thy  God  at  birth 
With  a  soul  of  highest  worth, 
With  a  beauty  scarce  of  earth, 
Welcome,  gracious  Queen  of  Mirth  ! 
Sound  the  trumpet,  strike  the  drum, 
Let  the  wondrous  pageant  come ! 
Till  our  sovereign  stricken  dumb 
Can  but  smile  on  every  one. 

Let  the  dragon  banner  fly! 
Let  the  redmen  sweeping  by! 
Let  the  navies  welcome  cry! 
Till  our  bright  Italian  sky 
Echoes  back  the  glad  refrain 
From  the  mountains  to  the  main, 
160 


QUEEN    OF   MIRTH 


That  Fiesta  now  again 

Finds  a  peerless  queen  to  reign. 

Thanks,  O  Southland,  unto  thee, 
Who  hath  given  her  to  be 
Sovereign  of  a  people  free ; 
While  our  daughters  fair  to  see, 
Adding  grandeur  to  the  grand, 
Gladly  round  her  highness  stand; 
Though  each  maiden's  jeweled  hand 
Well  could  scepter  fairy  land. 

With  your  regal  form  and  face, 
Mated  to  a  kindly  grace, 
You  have  banished  envy's  trace 
From  the  daughters  of  our  race. 
And  with  mystic,  magic  art. 
Conquered  every  warrior's  heart; 
Till  a  host  of  valiant  arms 
Ready  stand  to  guard  your  charms. 

Now  behold  a  moving  scene 
Comes  to  greet  thee,  regnant  queen. 
Winding  as  a  brilliant  stream 
In  a  bright  and  airy  dream, 
Come  the  children,  onward  led, 
With  our  banner  at  their  head. 
Marching  thus  to  show  their  love 
To  their  queen  and  flag  above. 

161 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Gently,  Time,  O  gently  now, 
Touch  that  regal  form  and  brow! 
Grant  her  fairest  fortune  thou ! 
Till  our  children's  children  bow 
To  the  beauty  we  behold, 
To  her  virtues  manifold. 
Then,  O  Queen,  when  earth  is  past, 
Heaven  welcome  thee  at  last. 


162 


TEACH    ME,    PAINTER 


TEACH    ME,  PAINTER 

Teach  me,  Painter,  how  to  blend 

All  the  colors  of  your  art, 
So  I  can  to  verses  lend 

Beauty  that  will  touch  the  heart. 

Whisper,  Painter,  first  of  all, 

Where  you  cull  your  deeper  dye  — 

From  what  region  do  you  call 
Purple  from  the  arching  sky  ? 

Doth  a  rainbow  sometimes  lend 

Tinted  harmony  to  thee? 
Show  me  whither  I  must  wend 

To  find  such  a  bow  for  me. 

Do  you  many  pansies  kill, 

Stealing  all  their  form  and  hue, 

Then  with  all  your  magic  skill, 
Give  them  fadeless  life  anew  ? 

There's  a  garden  in  your  room 
Filled  with  beauty  of  the  plain. 

Teach  me  how  you  made  them  bloom, 
After  every  bloom  was  slain. 

Solve  me  how  you  came  to  choose 
What  I  fancied  was  a  dream ; 

163 


STORY    AND    SONG 


Is  there  really  such  a  scene, 
"On  the  heights  of  Santa  Cruz." 

Teach,  O  teach  the  way  to  gain, 
With  a  master's  skillful  hand, 
All  the  beauties  of  the  land, 

All  the  grandeur  of  the  main. 

Ah,  I  fear  I  ask  too  much, 

When  I  seek  your  power  to  form, 
For  the  painter's  magic  touch 

Is  within  the  painter  born. 


164 


LITTLE   JIM 


LITTLE  JIM 

Now,  confess  you're  just  a  boaster, 

An'  are  saving  of  the  truth, 
When  you  shout  so  long  and  lusty 

Of  your  lean  an'  lanky  youth ; 
When  you  vow  no  other  infant, 

Tho'  even  twict  the  size, 
Can  eekal  him  in  wisdom, 

Or  the  sparkle  of  his  eyes. 

I  allow  it  ain't  good  manners 

To  run  a  baby  down, 
Fer  his  mammy  calls  him  Beauty, 

Tho'  he's  featured  like  a  clown. 
An'  his  daddy  thinks  his  knowledge 

So  superlatively  gran', 
An'  pertends  to  know  a  language 

That  none  can  understan'. 

And  yit  I'll  lay  a  wager, 

That  fer  larnin'  an'  fer  worth, 
Thar  ain't  another  infant 

Upon  the  rollin'  earth, 
Can  even  hold  a  candle 

In  wisdom  or  in  lim', 
To  a  lovely  blue-eyed  darlin', 

Whose  name  is  Little  Jim. 

165 


STORY   AND    SONG 


You  may  claim  that  winter  roses 

Are  a  charmin'  site  to  see, 
An'  swar  the  modest  vi'let  's 

As  sweet  as  sweet  can  be, 
But  thar's  never  yit  a  blossom, 

However  fair  an'  trim, 
Can  match  this  bud  o'  beauty, 

Our  han'some  Little  Jimu 

When  he  makes  a  long  oration  — 

Not  a  lawyer  in  the  town 
Is  half  so  interesting 

As  this  baby  in  his  gown. 
An'  his  sire  loves  to  listen — 

Fer  the  message  soun's  to  him 
Like  an  ecko  sent  from  heav'n 

By  the  shinin'  serafim. 

He's  got  a  mind  an'  knows  it, 

An'  when  he  waves  a  han', 
His  granny,  dad  and  mammy 

Run  to  answer  his  comman' ; 
It  may  be  in  the  mornin', 

At  the  drowsy  hour  of  one, 
But  when  an'  what  he  orders 

Is  straightway  to  be  done. 

An'  all  they  git  in  wages 

Is  just  a  baby's  smile; 
But  this  is  so  enchantin' 

It  pays  fer  every  trile; 
166 


LITTLE   JIM 


Fer  they  love  the  little  tyrant, 
An'  bow  an'  worship  him, 

As  if  God  had  sent  an  angel 
To  be  known  as  Little  Jim. 

Oh,  yes,  he  bears  another  name 

Which  many  will  forget  — 
His  mammy  fon'ly  calls  him: 

"  Mister  James  Barnett." 
But  to  his  lowly  nabors, 

This  seems  so  proud  and  prim, 
That  I  allow  he'll  answer 

To  the  name  of  Little  Jim. 

P'raps  you'll  think  I'm  boastin', 

Tho'  it's  little  I  have  told, 
Fer  tho'  he  's  wise  an'  witty, 

He  's  hardly  six  months  old. 
But  still  I'll  risk  a  wager 

That  in  a  match  with  him, 
Your  little  monkey  youngster 

Can't  class  with  Little  Jim. 


STORY   AND    SONG 


JUNE 

Oh  June,  June,  dear  little  June ! 
Your  smile  is  a  poem,  your  laughter  a  tune, 
Sunshine  your  presence  so  winsome  and  bright, 
Wooing  and  winning  all  hearts  with  delight. 

Oh  June,  June,  maidenly  June ! 

Your  heart  is  a  treasure,  your  love  heaven's  boon; 

Beside  these  all  glittering  jewels  of  worth 

Are  paltriest  dust  on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Oh  June,  June,  light-hearted  June ! 
Heaven  send  you  a  blessing  each  turn  of  the  moon; 
In  the  shine  of  the  stars,  when  sol  is  on  high; 
May  Fortune,  fair  Fortune,  be  ever  near  by. 

Oh  June,  June,  sweet  little  June ! 
We're  glad  that  you  came,tho'  you're  leaving  too  soon; 
Fond  hearts  will  be  aching  and  saddest  tears  flow 
When  June,  fairy  June,  turns  homeward  to  go. 

But  June,  June,  you'll  come  again  soon, 
Come  in  the  darkness,  or  come  at  high  noon ; 
Our  doors  will  swing  open,  our  hearts  will  rejoice, 
When  we  shall  behold  thee,  and  hear  thy  sweet  voice. 


168 


THE   SAILOR'S    RETURN 


THE    SAILOR'S    RETURN 

Ho,  Captain,  tell  me  true  — 
Where  is  my  sailor  blue  ? 

One  summer's  day, 
With  eyes  that  could  not  weep, 
With  sorrow  buried  deep, 
I  watched  him  outward  sweep 

Adown  the  bay. 

Years,  years  are  dead  and  past 
Since  his  top-gallant  mast 

Was  lost  to  view; 
Yet  every  night  and  day 
I  kneel  to  God  and  pray 
That  he  who  sailed  away 

Might  still  be  true. 

My  lad  like  thee  was  bold, 
But  hardly  now  so  old 

As  thou  I  vow; 
His  eyes  were  blue  as  thine, 
His  smile  almost  divine; 
I'd  give  all  else  of  mine 

To  see  him  now. 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Thy  form  and  winsome  grace 
Recall  my  laddie's  face, 

And  give  me  joy. 
Thy  smile  speaks  to  my  heart 
That  we  shall  never  part, 
For  now  I  know  thou  art 

My  sailor  boy. 


170 


A    MAID    WITH    A    HEART 


A  MAID   WITH  A  HEART 

There's  a  dreamy  island  of  coral  rare 

In  the  sunny  southern  sea, 
Where  the  mermaids  combing  their  golden  hair 

Were  exceedingly  fair  to  me. 

While  twining  and  combing  their  locks  with  care, 

Their  magical  notes  prolong, 
Asking  if  I  had  the  courage  to  dare 

To  list  to  a  siren  song. 

"  We  seek  for  a  king  who  is  brave  and  free, 

And  the  fairest  maid  of  us  all 
Will  be  his  queen  and  the  queen  of  the  sea, 

And  be  crowned  in  our  coral  hall. 

"Will  you  come  and  dwell  in  a  palace  grand, 

And  recline  on  a  couch  of  gold  ? 
You  shall  rule  us  all  with  a  royal  hand, 

If  you  are  very  strong  and  bold. 

"  There  is  not  a  maiden  in  all  the  earth 

Can  rival  a  maid  of  the  sea, 
For  Beauty  gave  each  a  kiss  at  her  birth, 

And  our  beauty  will  always  be/' 

I  said  to  them  as  we  drifted  apart: 
"  I  marvel  such  beauty  to  see, 
171 


STORY   AND    SONG 


But  a  mermaid  is  born  without  a  heart, 
And  can  never  be  bride  to  me. 

"Besides,  it  is  written  in  legends  old, 

That  when  mermaids  are  won  and  wed  — 

In  the  first  embrace  the  strong  and  the  bold 
Are  numbered  along  with  the  dead. 

"And  while  man  will  risk  a  life  for  a  kiss, 
Loves  beauty  in  nature  and  art, 

He  seeks  for  more  than  a  moment  of  bliss, 
And  longs  for  a  maid  with  a  heart." 


172 


JIM    ROOT 


JIM    ROOT 

You  vow  no  heroes  now  are  born, 

And  laugh  the  present  race  to  scorn  ? 

Listen,  Cynic,  aye,  listen  well, 

While  I  a  hero's  story  tell. 

And  challenge  e'en  Achilles  old 

To  stand  beside  my  hero  bold. 

Not  on  the  battle-field  fought  he  — 

Not  in  the  lists  of  chivalry — 

But  yesterday  at  Hinckly  town 

That  brave  Jim  Root  achieved  renown. 

Just  plain  Jim  Root,  unknown  to  fame 

Until  he  ran  that  Hinckly  train; 

And  snatched  two  hundred  souls  from  death, 

Who  felt  the  Reaper's  scorching  breath. 

Precisely  at  the  hour  of  two 

The  daily  limited  mail  was  due. 

And  Jim,  the  master  engineer, 

Was  driving  on  without  a  fear, 

Yet  gravely  watched  the  piston  stroke, 

And  wondered  at  a  pall  of  smoke  — 

That  arching  o'er  him  left  and  right  — 

Was  turning  day  to  darkest  night. 

Then  heard  the  anxious  cries  that  came : 

"  Back !  back  !  the  woods  are  all  aflame." 

But  on  he  sped,  the  warnings  vain, 

And  Hinckly  saw  his  rescue  train. 

173 


STORY   AND    SONG 


"  Aboard !  aboard !  ye  old  and  young ! 

Fly,  fly  from  Hinckly,  every  one." 

Thus  spake  the  hero,  brave  Jim  Root, 

Tho'  scorched  and  burned  from  head  to  foot. 

"Flee  for  your  lives,"  he  cried  again, 

uYe  mothers,  children,  maids  and  men." 

Then  backward  with  a  mighty  roar 

With  twice  a  hundred  souls,  aye  more; 

Through  blinding  smoke  and  fearful  flame, 

Towards  the  lakeside  rushed  the  train. 

Hemmed  in  by  fire  on  every  side, 

With  throttle  standing  open  wide, 

On,  on  it  sped,  with  giant  stride. 

The  roadway  roofed  with  lurid  fire, 

The  train  itself  a  moving  pyre, 

While  flaming  trees  like  arrows  fell, 

Shot  straight  from  out  the  mouth  of  hell. 

Twice,  thrice  the  scorching  billows  came 

And  licked  his  cheeks  with  tongues  of  flame, 

Till  burned  and  blistered  there  he  stands, 

Holding  the  lever  in  his  hands. 

And  never  did  his  steely  nerve 

One  instant  from  its  duty  swerve.      ^ 

At  last,  thank  God,  and  also  Jim, 

Alive  they  reached  the  water's  rim, 

Then  glancing  backward  whence  they  came, 

Saw  naught  except  a  sea  of  flame. 


174 


JIM    ROOT 


Honor  and  fame  for  him  I  claim, 
Who  nobly  ran  that  rescue  train; 
Honor,  I  say,  to  brave  Jim  Root, 
A  hero,  sir,  from  cap  to  boot ! 


175 


STORY   AND    SONG 


THE   MOON 
To  S.  D.  H. 

O  Moon,  you  are  a  gypsy, 

And  the  wisest  gypsy  too, 
For  the  sober  and  the  tipsy 

Pass  you  nightly  in  review. 

You  come  with  wisdom  laden, 

Garnered  round  the  mother  earth  ; 

For  like  a  gypsy  maiden, 

You  have  wandered  since  your  birth, 

You  nightly  hear  the  wailing 

Of  the  wicked,  wretched,  poor  — 

Sad  cries,  but  unavailing, 
While  longings  are  impure. 

Envy,  hatred,  fiery  passion 
Smite  us  fiercely  with  the  rod, 

Yet  with  some  it  seems  the  fashion 
To  ascribe  our  ills  to  God. 


It  matters  not  to  dreamer 

Whether  dream  be  long  or  brief, 
If  in  the  dream  the  dreamer 

Granted  brothers  sweet  relief. 

176 


THE    MOON 


And  though  upon  Time's  dial 

There  is  seeming  wrong  and  strife, 

We  may  rise  from  ev'ry  trial 
With  a  nobler  view  of  life. 

For  claims  of  grief  and  sorrow 
Turn  these  human  hearts  aright, 

So  in  the  near  to-morrow 

We  shall  sooner  see  the  light. 

And  when  our  fears  would  worry 
He  bids  them,  "Peace  be  still," 

To  neither  shrink  nor  hurry, 
But  wait  the  Master's  will. 

With  evil  all  forsaken 

The  light  will  o'er  us  stream, 
And  we  shall  re-awaken 

From  the  shadow  and  the  dream. 


You  behold  how  mortals  travel 

Through  unnumbered  years  of  strife, 

Vainly  seeking  to  unravel 
All  the  tangled  skein  of  life. 

Winding,  weaving,  interlacing, 
Walking  backward  to  the  light; 

Now  advancing,  now  retracing, 
Hardly  knowing  what  is  right. 
177 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Asking  why  and  whence  and  whither 
Runs  the  destiny  of  man  — 

Born  to  bud,  to  bloom,  to  wither  — 
Dust  and  ashes  once  again. 

That's  the  casket,  not  the  jewel, 
That's  the  husk,  but  not  the  corn; 

Sleep  is  good  and  never  cruel, 
Since  we  waken  at  the  morn. 

Dying  daily,  daily  learning, 
Dying  to  this  sense  of  life; 

To  our  heritage  returning, 

After  countless  years  of  strife. 

Although  we  gaze  in  wonder 
At  the  labyrinths  we  tread, 

His  hand  is  over  yonder, 
Holding  singly  ev'ry  thread. 

And  He  draws  us  in  His  kindness 

To  the  harmony  above, 
Showing  mercy  when  in  blindness 

We  reject  a  Father's  love. 

So  I  hold  that  we  are  moving 

Onward,  upward,  though  we  pause, 

And  the  naught  of  error  proving 
Knowing  God  alone  is  Cause. 


178 


MARJORIE 


MARJORIE 

Little  Marjorie's  still  and  white, 
Wakes  not  with  the  morning  light; 
Soft  hands  folded  on  her  breast, 
Weary  Marjorie's  now  at  rest. 

Blessed  Marjorie  sleeps  in  peace, 
All  her  pains  and  sorrows  cease; 
She's  not  dead,  she  only  keeps 
Tryst  with  Him  who  said :  She  sleeps. 


179 


STORY   AND    SONG 


A  PRECIOUS    FLOWER 
In  Memory  of  Frances 

"Guard  this,"  said  the  King  to  the  gardener; 

"  'Tis  a  plant  exceedingly  rare ; 
Let  it  grow  to  bloom  in  my  royal  room 

Beneath  thy  fostering  care." 

The  gardener  welcomed  the  stranger 

Where  the  rare  exotics  grew. 
With  gentle  power  he  shielded  the  flower, 

Gave  it  the  sun  and  the  dew. 

And  never  a  plant  grew  fairer 

Within  a  gardener's  fence; 
Its  sweet  perfume,  when  budding  to  bloom, 

Was  like  fragrant  frankincense. 

And  the  gardener  loved  the  stranger, 

And  tended  it  day  and  night, 
So  its  grace  and  beauty,  thro'  love  and  duty, 

Might  be  to  the  King  a  delight. 

And  the  wife  of  the  gardener  worshiped 

The  stranger  from  afar, 
Who  in  rain  or  shine  shone  with  light  divine, 

As  though  it  came  from  a  star. 


180 


A    PRECIOUS   FLOWER 

But  near  to  the  hour  of  blooming 
The  garden  was  filled  with  gloom. 

Before  the  dawn  the  flower  was  gone, 
And  the  gardener's  heart  was  a  tomb. 

Yet  a  light  from  out  the  darkness 

Revealed  to  those  who  wept 
Near  the  lowly  bed  of  the  seeming  dead 

That  the  blossom  only  slept. 

And  they  knew  the  kingly  power 
Would  waken  again  their  bloom, 

And  above  the  earth  its  beauty  and  worth 
Would  brighten  the  royal  room. 

And  the  gardener  grew  contented, 
And  the  wife  from  tears  refrained, 

Waiting  the  time  with  faith  sublime, 
Their  blossom  will  be  regained. 

With  the  glory  of  its  beauty 
Secure  from  the  clinging  sod, 

With  fragrant  breath  untouched  by  death, 
Anear  to  the  throne  of  God. 


181 


STORY    AND   SONG 


THAT    OTHER  ROOM 
In  Memory  of  I.  C.  Curtis 

As  honored  trav'ler  to  a  friendly  state, 
So  passed  he  calmly  to  that  other  room, 

Not  fearing  there  to  meet  a  frowning  fate, 
And  smiling  bravel)  at  the  threat  of  gloom ; 
For  after  all  he  deemed  the  gated  tomb 

A  lucent  doorway  that  ajar  did  wait, 

To  lead  him  onward  where  the  lights  illume 

A  joyous  scene  behind  a  crystal  gate. 

So  what  could  angel  death  do  more  for  him, 
Than  ope  the  portal  to  the  seraphim  ? 

Why  should  he  fearful  be,  who  never  knew 
A  coward  motive  nor  an  action  mean, 

Who  proudly  stood,  while  legions  fawning  grew, 
And  loved  the  beauty  of  the  soul  serene  ? 
A  knightly  man  the  earth  and  heaven  between, 

Unsullied  as  the  blossom  in  the  dew, 

With  look  undaunted  waiting  for  the  screen 

Aside  to  roll  and  bring  a  heaven  to  view. 
Thus  bravely  onward  still  in  manly  bloom, 
Went  he  in  gladness  to  that  other  room. 


182 


"PEACE    BE   STILL" 


"PEACE,  BE  STILL" 

In  stormiest  sea  there  cometh  to  me 

A  message  from  above ; 
Mid  the  lightning's  flash  and  thunder's  crash 

I  hear  the  voice  of  Love : 
Peace,  be  still !  is  the  whispered  word, 

Peace,  be  still !  be  still  ! 
And  the  storm  and  strife  of  this  dreamland  life 

Are  calmed  by  the  Master's  will. 

Oh,  wand'rer  from  God,  still  dwelling  in  Nod, 

Dreading  a  gale  to-day, 
Find  refuge  secure  in  the  One  who  is  pure, 

Whom  even  the  winds  obey. 
Peace  be  still !   Omnipotent  word ! 

Peace,  be  still !  be  still ! 
And  clamor  and  din,  the  tempests  of  sin 

Are  hushed  by  the  Father's  will. 


183 


STORY   AND    SONG 


ONE 

Man  has  one  Mind,  one  Soul,  one  Life, 
One  Love  that  quells  all  earthly  strife, 
One  Father — Mother,  God  Divine, 
One  Christ  who  comes  with  healing  sign. 

One  Science  leadeth  man  aright 
Towards  the  Way,  the  Truth,  the  Light 
One  Great  Physician  he  may  call — 
One  Spirit,  God,  the  All-in-all. 


184 


EASTER 


EASTER 

To  Thermal  Sunday  School,  Colorado  Desert 

Hear  ye  the  message  of  Easter, 

Dwellers  in  desert  land, 
How  seraphs  came  and  in  His  name 

Scattered  a  Roman  band. 

Hear  ye  the  story  of  Easter, 

How  angels  fair  as  day 
For  human  weal  broke  Pilate's  seal 

And  rolled  the  stone  away. 

That  was  the  mightiest  marvel 
That  ever  Time  gave  birth, 

When  He,  once  dead,  with  stately  tread, 
Marched  from  the  yawning  earth ! 

Behold  the  sacred  drama ! 

Earth  pauses  for  a  time, 
While  hosts  above  in  hope  and  love 

Review  the  scene  sublime. 

One  touch  of  God's  white  angel 

Unlocks  the  narrow  room ; 
Then  he  who  died,  the  Crucified, 

Arises  from  the  tomb. 


185 


STORY   AND    SONG 


Oh,  wonderous  might  and  wisdom ! 

The  world  again  is  trod 
By  Him  whom  death  had  robbed  of  breath, 

The  incarnate  Son  of  God ! 

"  Lo,  see,  the  Lord  is  risen  ! " 

The  radiant  angel  said. 
"  Have  ye  no  fear,  He  is  not  here ; 

He  liveth  that  was  dead." 

He  liveth !  aye,  he  conquered 

The  fatal  foe  of  men ; 
And  each  one  now  should  lowly  bow 

To  Christ  of  Bethlehem. 

List  ye  this  Easter  morning 

For  silent  word  or  sign  — 
A  message  clear  that  each  may  hear 

From  Christ  the  Son  divine. 

Hark  !  'tis  the  Savior  calling  : 

"Come,  O  come  to  me! 
Open  thine  heart,  I  would  not  depart ; 

Let  me  abide  with  thee ! " 

Thus  will  the  Easter  message 

Calm  the  storm  and  strife, 
Soothe  our  sorrows,  brighten  the  morrows, 

And  bless  our  daily  life. 

THE    END 

186 


YB  53209 


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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


